


Marking Against Instinct

by fullmoontonightt



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Werewolves Are Known, Claiming, Hale Family Feels, Little bit of angst, Little bit of smut, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Pack Dynamics, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Tattoo Artist Derek Hale, Tattoos, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-03-23
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:48:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 44,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23283532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fullmoontonightt/pseuds/fullmoontonightt
Summary: The guy in front of him is looking around the shop with interest, letting his eyes scan over the flash art on the walls. He's beautiful and Derek's wolf purrs in his chest, wanting to get closer. He frowns when he realizes the guy is human.Derek faces him, eyes serious. “You know this is a wolves only shop right?”Alpha Derek Hale has had his wolves only tattoo shop for years. Before Stiles Stilinksi walked in, asking him for help with a tattoo, he'd never thought about how a single tattoo could change his life.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 71
Kudos: 1507





	Marking Against Instinct

The pencil slides over the almost see through paper smoothly, adding soft grey lines onto the design. Derek scrunches his eyebrows as he carefully draws out a geometric circle next to the wolf’s snout, wanting to do more than just the lone wolf figure. Looking up at his laptop, at which he’s got some botanical references, he frowns as he tries to decide which flower would look best with the rough looking wolf. 

His client hadn’t specified what kind of flower they wanted, not really caring about any symbolism, and had mostly just wanted it to look good. Derek could go for the typical wolfsbane or mistletoe. Werewolves often chose one of those, as a way represent them overcoming their weaknesses or their struggles. 

Derek didn’t mind the sentiment, but it had become quite the cliché. This whole design was kind of a cliché. You wouldn’t believe how many wolves came into his shop wanting a tattoo of a wolf. Sometimes it was just a symbol, sometimes it was meant to represent someone out of their pack. Either way, Derek found it to be a bit on the nose.

Frowning over at his computer screen, he decides to go with a simple peony. It’ll look good on the design. 

“Derek,” Erica’s sultry voice comes up behind him, “your three o’clock is here.”

Oh right yeah. He’d been so focused on designing for his new client that he’d forgotten about him actually having to tattoo today as well. He stands up hastily and pulls open his drawer to grab his supplies. Luckily, he’d already made the stencil yesterday.

His client is standing nervously in their waiting room, clearly unsure of how to position himself within the space. He lowers his head submissively when Derek arrives. His nose tells him this guy is just a beta and he nods pointedly, telling the other wolf that he can stand down. 

Him being an Alpha always creates this kind of power struggle within the shop, even if he never meant for it to. Wolves just automatically react to his status. When other Alpha’s entered it could especially be a struggle, as they would have to formally ask for permission to enter his ‘territory’. Erica brushes by him, rolling her eyes at the power display in front of her, and goes to sit down behind her reception desk.

She faces the beta as she grabs an apple out of her top drawer and takes a bite, a stream of the juice falling onto her chin. She licks it away while she grins. “No worries Liam, Derek is not as grumpy as he looks. You’re in good hands.”

The beta, Liam, just nods at her. Clearly not too sure what to make from the situation. Derek turns around to walk towards his station, waving his hand to indicate Liam can follow him. Once they reach the chair Liam takes off his shirt and Derek moves to shave the patch of skin on his shoulder blade. Grabbing the stencil, he carefully places it on so the lines move naturally on his client’s body. Liam had wanted an anchor, American traditional style.

Derek had been happy with the request, it was something else than the usual folklore related stuff. Though he supposes an anchor does still have some werewolf symbolism.

He gets out the mountain ash and blow torch and he can see Liam swallowing at their appearance. Derek sends him a small grimace as he shrugs, not seeing the point in lying. “It’s going to hurt like a bitch.”

Liam nods at that, huffing out a nervous breath, and he goes to lie down onto the leather chair. A lot of first time customers are a bit apprehensive of the whole fire going directly onto their skin thing. Derek can understand it. When he got his first tattoo he’d been scared to death too. Michael, his mother’s kind of crazy cousin, had done it for him when he was eighteen. 

Mom had been furious when she’d found out, had threatened to kick Michael out of the pack, but as soon as she realized Derek had gotten their family symbol on his back her anger quickly disappeared. Talia really liked looking at it now. 

She still hated tattoos though. 

Derek had just always had an immense interest in tattoos and the world of tattooing. He remembers him and Laura watching Ink master on their living room couch, fascinated by the art and the application. When he found out werewolves healed from the tattoo guns, he’d been disappointed to say the least. 

Not many werewolves actually had tattoos. Even with werewolves being known, no one had really worked on the technique of werewolf tattooing. He supposes there were more important things to work on - werewolf institutions of law and health for example. When Derek had suddenly seen Michael with a botched up flower on his calf, he’d forced his great uncle to tell him everything he knew. 

Michael had seen it on one of his trips through Guatemala. The old Maya werewolf tribe he’d encountered had all had black tribal bands around their neck. They’d used mountain ash as a healing blocker, making the design permanent. A usual tattoo gun wouldn’t cut it, so the tribe had used traditional torches. The lines hadn’t been very straight as they had no real way to keep the flame under control. Michael had figured a burner could work and when he’d come back to the States, he’d experimented many times with different types of burners and mountain ash mixtures. 

Derek had been fascinated by Michael, who after four years of experimenting had arms filled up with crazy patterns and intricate drawings. He knew he wanted that too.

And after years of begging, Michael finally taught him how. Together they worked on the proportions of the fire and ash and it didn’t take long for Derek to start up his own shop, Full Moon tattoos. 

The name was a little tacky yes, but it helped with getting in customers. More and more werewolves were wanting tattoos, but none had really figured out the how and where. Erica is always loud and proud about how Derek had been the first one to commercialize the process, but Derek doesn’t see it like that. He’d just wanted to learn how to tattoo. If he’s helping other wolves and making money in the process, that’s just a bonus.

He does keep the recipe of his mountain ash mixture a secret though. He isn’t stupid.

Liam is shifting under him, itching at the painful feeling of the flames on his skin. Derek doesn’t mind though, him being an alpha means he can hold moving clients still quite easily. Even when they wolf out like Liam is currently doing. Derek lets himself growl, hoping the authority will help Liam calm down. He finishes the last bits of shading within the anchor and wraps the tattoo up in clear foil. It turned out pretty nicely, if he says so himself.

“That’s sick dude,” Liam huffs out, looking over his shoulder into the floor length mirror. The anchor was a deep black on his back, a subtle strand of rope curling behind it. 

Derek huffs out a laugh at the word choice, but thanks Liam anyway. Erica guides the teen out of the shop and Derek releases a sigh he hadn’t even realized he was holding. Isaac comes over with a smirk, eyebrows raised, and scratches his with a black and white rose covered neck. “Long day?” 

Derek cracks his back mindlessly as he faces his apprentice. “Way too long.”

“And we’ve still got some paperwork to do,” Erica singsongs as she walks over to them, her purple stiletto heels clicking on their marble floor. She shrugs when she reaches them, holding the forms in her right hand as her eyes shine with mischief. “Or we could say screw it and head over to pack night early.”

“Yes to that last option.” Isaac smirks as he walks over to his desk and grabs his jean jacket, not even giving Derek much of a choice as Isaac was his lift. Not that Derek was very desperate to do the paperwork, they had all of the weekend to fill that out. 

They reach the Hale house not long later and Derek breathes in the familiar smells of the preserve and pack. Of family. His mom greets him with a warm hug and Laura hits him over the head as she tells him all about her new students and teases him about how one would be just his type. 

For once Derek doesn’t really mind, spending the rest of the night basking in the happy feeling of home. 

\--

It’s monday, the day that Erica always has class at the local college. Leaving him and Isaac to both tattoo and run the reception at the same time. It’s his least favourite day of the week and he’s thankful for Beacon Hills not having that many walk-ins. Considering they’re one of the only shops that does werewolf tattoos, people usually book their appointments beforehand as they will also have to travel out here.

The soft notes of the doorbell ring through the shop as he’s working on the wolf portrait he’s going to be setting later today. Derek grunts, not too excited about having to play receptionist, as he walks to the front of the shop. 

The scent hits him before he even sees the guy. Freshly picked pears, with a hint of smoked whiskey and something else Derek can’t put his finger on. It’s enthralling and his wolf purrs inside him, wanting to get closer. Derek swallows at the intensity. It’s been a while for him to react to a scent like this. Then his nose tells him it’s also a human scent and he frowns.

The guy in front of him is looking around the shop with interest, letting his eyes scan over the flash art on the walls. He’s young, with a lanky frame and pale skin. Derek’s eyes linger a little too long on the guy’s neck, which is filled with delicate moles. Then the guy looks up, somehow sensing he’s there, and Derek swallows at the deep honey brown eyes that are suddenly facing him. Derek takes a second to compose himself before he starts to speak. “Can I help you?” 

“Right yeah, sorry,” the guy smiles nervously and points half handly to one of Derek’s pieces on the wall, “I was just distracted by the art. Looks really well done.”

Derek can feel a blush reach his cheeks, his wolf purring contently at the compliment, and he’s confused by his own reaction. Why is he responding this much to this guy? He faces him, eyes serious. “You know this is a wolves only shop right?”

The guy moves to scratch the back of his neck, but the movement is not uncomfortable. Derek’s eyes linger on the way the long fingers move back forwards. The man looks at Derek when he moves forwards, his hands up in the air as he begins to talk. “Yes I know that. It’s actually the reason I’m here. You tattooed my friend Liam last week and-” 

Derek’s eyebrows furrow. “Is something wrong with the tattoo?” 

“No, no,” the guy raises his hands up in an almost defensive position and Derek’s wolf whines at apparently having made him uncomfortable. Derek bites his lip. Honestly why is he reacting this strongly to this random guy?

“You see, I’m here to-,” the guy’s eyebrows furrow, somehow strangely attractive, “okay, right I’ve started this off all wrong. Let me restart. I’m Stiles.” 

The bright smile that is sent Derek’s way, soft-looking lips curled upwards, leaves him feeling slightly warm and fuzzy. He wants to rub his scent all over the pale skin in front of him.

“And I’m looking for alpha Derek Hale?” 

His face shoots up and their eyes connect, a thrill going through him at hearing the guy - Stiles - say his name. Derek nods, raising his eyebrows. “That’s me.”

“Oh right, yeah I could tell you were an alpha but wasn’t sure whether it was you. Though I mean I should have known really with you being the alpha of this shop. Anyway I wanted to-”

“You could tell I was an alpha?” Derek can’t help the question. It’s not usual for humans to be able to pick up on that.

Stiles doesn’t look too upset at being interrupted and just grins confidently at the question. “Yeah, been a human running with wolves for a while now. And also I’m a spark.” 

A spark? Derek feels his eyes widen. Sparks were rare. Incredibly rare. He frowns as he realizes his nose hadn’t recognized Stiles being one, but at the same time he’d never actually met a spark before. Sparks were the most pure form of magic. According to his mom, a spark was magic in its human form. Their abilities differed, but they were some of the strongest and most powerful beings in the supernatural world. They were also the true emissaries. Druids or witches made good substitutes, but sparks were so pure in their magic, it fitted the purity of the werewolf as the original shapeshifters.

Which explains why his wolf was reacting so strongly to Stiles’ presence. 

Derek looks up from his thoughts to see Stiles babbling in front of him, his hands flying through the air as if their movements are a form of punctuation. “So in order to fully connect to my magic, I need a binding tattoo and I haven’t really been able to find anyone who could do it. So I figured maybe you could.”

“Umh,” Derek can’t help but stutter, needing a second to wrap his mind around all this, “I never really tattoo humans.” 

“Right, yeah I figured that.” Stiles’ smile falls from his lips and he sighs softly. The sense of disappointment that comes over his expression makes an ache fill up Derek’s chest. 

“But I can help.” The words flow out of Derek before he can think twice about it, for some reason not wanting Stiles to leave the shop just yet and not wanting this to be the last time he’d see the man. “I can do some research, pull some strings, see what I can do.”

“You’d do that?” Stiles sends him a confused grin and Derek already knows this was probably not the best idea, but the pleased sparkle he can now see in Stiles’ eyes makes it all feel okay.

\--

The tv is playing some scene in which a virgin girl is being artificially inseminated in front of him, some ridiculous show his sisters are currently watching, and Derek tries to let his ears focus on his mom’s office. Not that it was very successful. The Hale house had walls that were pretty soundproof once you closed the doors, but his mom’s office had an extra layer of protection. Deaton had done special wards on the room, considering important pack business was often discussed there.

He knew Deaton was currently in the room for his and his mom’s monthly meeting and Derek wanted to speak to him. Deaton was their emissary and whilst Derek never had a lot of personal contact with him, he figured he could ask him about the binding tattoo for Stiles. After all, Deaton had a binding tattoo himself. Derek remembers seeing it when he was younger and had just started his fascination with the art form. Deaton’s tattoo was shaped as a big oak tree, each of its branches representing one of the original Hale pack members and their offspring. It’s the way for emissaries to tie themselves to a pack. 

For some reason the thought of Stiles tying himself to a pack Derek doesn’t know bothers Derek. Which is ridiculous considering he doesn’t even really know the guy. He shakes his head as he pushes that line of thought out of his head. 

When he looks up Laura is sporting one of her judgemental looks, arching her left eyebrow in a frown. “What are you spazzing about?” 

“I’m not spazzing.” 

Cora huffs out a loud breath from next to him, sending him an unimpressed glare. “Please, I’ve been smelling weird nerves coming from you for the last fifteen minutes now.”

“Even I’ve been smelling them,” his teenage cousin Lucas adds in, mindlessly throwing a piece of popcorn into his mouth, “and I’m not even a wolf.”

Laura nods as if she agrees, a grin now on her features, as she presses her bare feet against his stomach. “So. Spill.”

Derek rolls his eyes, pushing his sister’s feet off of him. “I just want to ask Deaton something once him and mom are done.”

Cora sits up at that, a confused frown sent his way. “Why do you need Deaton?” 

“Maybe it’s none of your business.” 

Laura rolls her eyes as she shifts closer to him on their couch. “And maybe we don’t care what you think isn’t our business. What do you need Deaton for?” 

“Fuck off Laura,” he sends his oldest sister an annoyed glare, “I don’t need to discuss everything with you.”

“Oh I’m Derek and I am an alpha now and now I get to be all secretive about stuff,” Lucas singsongs mockingly as he rolls his eyes in Derek’s general direction, “you fuck off Derek. You think you’re better than us now?” 

Oh my god. Derek had always thought Laura was his most annoying family member, but then his uncle Peter had come to live with them and brought Lucas along. Quickly correcting Derek’s assumption about who was truly the most annoying Hale.

He sighs. “It’s just some stuff for the shop.” 

Cora opens her mouth as if she wants to protest further but then Derek hears the door to his mother’s office open and he jumps up, sprinting up the stairs quickly to avoid any more pressing questions of his siblings. His mother looks at him with an amused frown as he reaches them, but Deaton just has a stoic expression on his face. As if he’d expected Derek to come up and talk to them. Maybe he had. Derek doesn’t really know how that binding tattoo works. 

Which is why he’s here.

“Umh, hi,” he swallows as he looks up at the older man, “I wondered if I could ask you some things for a minute?”

Deaton just nods, turning around to walk back into the office, and his mom sends him a questioning look. “Do I need to be here for this conversation?” 

“No, it’s nothing pack related, just some things I’ve been wondering about.”

“Okay,” his mother smiles down at him warmly and squeezes his shoulder, “let me know if I can help answer any of these wondering questions.”

Ever since Derek had come into his alpha powers - by accidentally killing a rogue alpha whilst out on a patrol - his mother had done her best to guide him. It could still be a bit awkward at times, even if he’d been an alpha over three years now, considering Derek was still a part of the Hale pack. And still wanted to be.

“I will.” He smiles at his mom as she walks away and he steps into her office.

Deaton had already taken a seat in the green armchair next to the desk and looked up expectantly when he came in. “So Derek, what can I help you with today?” 

Derek notices he’d left his mother’s chair - the alpha chair - empty and Derek feels slightly uncomfortable as he contemplates sitting in it. Even though he was an alpha now, his mother was still his alpha and sitting in her seat felt wrong. He also knows Deaton did it deliberately. He’d never viewed Derek as an alpha. To him, Derek was a mere beta of his mothers and nothing more. Deaton also refused to call him alpha Hale, even at formal occasions. It had always left a bitter taste in Derek’s mouth, a physical confirmation of the fact he was never meant to be an alpha. 

Shaking his head, he quickly grabs one of the other chairs and sits down. “Well, it’s about your tattoo. The binding tattoo. I was wondering where you got it.” 

“So Stiles has come to see you then.” 

Derek’s eyebrows shoot up. How had Deaton known that? His confusion must show on his face, as Deaton grinnicks out what Derek thinks is a laugh and he goes to explain. “Stiles came to me several weeks ago, asking me if I were to do his tattoo.” 

When the other man doesn’t continue, Derek attempts to fill in the gap himself. “And you didn’t?”

“I didn’t,” Deaton nods, “I do not think Stiles is ready for such a commitment.” 

“But he’s a spark right? Isn’t binding himself to a pack what he is supposed to do?” 

“Yes and no.” Deaton shifts in his seat and lies his hands on his lap as he goes to elaborate. “You see Derek, a binding tattoo is a big commitment. I only took mine, binding myself to your mother, after having been in her guidance for several years. The tattoo allows us to feel the general emotions of the people we bind ourselves to as well as a general feeling of their current health. Once the binding is made, it can not be undone.” 

“And you think Stiles is not ready for such a binding?” 

“No I think he absolutely is. Stiles is an accomplished magic user, frankly one of the most talented people I have had under my guidance. Especially for his age. He’s only twentyone and has only known about his powers for three years. Yet he is incredibly accomplished in them.” 

“So what’s the problem then?” Derek frowns as he attempts to understand the situation. 

Deaton releases a soft sigh, but it strikes Derek more as amused than anything else. “I just do not think he is binding himself to the right people for the right reasons. Which is why I refused to tattoo him. You are free to do as you please though Derek.” 

With that the older man stands up, pulling his winter coat from where he had draped it over mom’s desk and walking towards the door. He glances over his shoulder to give Derek - who is still incredibly confused about the whole thing - a last look. “I’m sure I’ll hear what decision you’ve made.” 

Derek knew from his mother that Deaton was a secretive man, often clouding his judgement in mysteries and general vagueness, but up till now he’d never realized how annoying that was. 

\--

The burner is hot underneath his hands as he works to finish in a white highlight on the full moon that is central to the desert landscape piece he’s setting. The woman releases a pained whine underneath him and Derek strengthens the hold he has on her with his other hand. She’d been terrible at sitting still, which was risky considering the delicacy of the piece. He did like the piece a lot. She’d emailed him a picture of the desert that was her pack’s home and he’d adjusted it slightly, a single cactus being centre stage with a full moon behind it, the outlines of her pack house as a dark contrast on the background. It was nice and he knew it meant a lot to the woman, even if she was squirming at every line he set. The high pain tolerance of wolves helped some bit, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel him actively burning something into their body. 

He finishes off the tattoo, pretty pleased with the result, as the woman thanks him with tears in her eyes. She hugs him on instinct, thankfulness radiating off her in waves. Whilst the hug was a bit much for Derek, it did make him smile. This was why he loved his job. He could do these kinds of things for people. 

As the woman heads out the door, he sunders over to Erica’s desk. She sends him an eye roll, mocking an annoyed face, as she motions to the phone on her ear. Listening in briefly, Derek huffs out a laugh as he hears a lady request for them to do a whole back piece on her son in just one session and gives Erica a sympathetic look. He’s so glad he hired her to deal with the phone, whilst she can be quite direct - sometimes bordering on rude, she deals with entitled customers a lot better than Derek would. 

He opens her drawer and grabs out their address book, flipping to the page of last week - where Stiles had written down his phone number. Derek’s mind drifts to the confident wink the other guy had given him as he jot down his details and a blush reaches his cheeks. Right, he should probably give Stiles a call. Not that he really knew what to say - the conversation with Deaton hadn’t actually been all that helpful. 

He’d done some research in his private time, reading up on the rather complicated process of binding tattoos, but he wasn’t much further in figuring out how to do it. He would need a magic user present to do the actual binding. Otherwise Derek would just give him a regular tattoo, which wasn’t really the point. And he also didn’t know what pack Stiles was wanting to bind himself to, but since Deaton didn’t approve that had added a question mark in Derek’s mind.

He’s biting on his lip as he looks at the messy handwriting on the page in front of him and he can feel Erica’s eyes on him as she puts down the phone. She clicks her tongue, an amused frown on her face. “Are you blushing at the address book?”

“No.” He quickly slaps the book shut, annoyed at himself for not having taken it back with him to his workspace, and Erica jumps up from her chair as her hand reaches for the book. He holds it up high to keep it out of her reach but Erica seems determined and actually pouches on him as she grabs it successfully out of his hands. 

“Erica!” He barks out, making Isaac look up from where he’s tattooing with a frown, and Erica just snickers as she runs towards the red leather couch in their waiting room. 

He tries running after her, but Isaac’s client is looking their way now too, and he groans as he doesn’t want to seem unprofessional in front of them. Erica seems to know this and the wide grin now seems plastered to her face as she flips open the book, her eyes scanning over possible reasons as to why her alpha was blushing. Honestly, she had no respect.

He paces over to her, biting down on the insides of his cheeks in irritation, and goes to grab the book out of her hands. Erica just tuts at him, slapping his hands away, as her eyes widen on a name. “Wait Stiles? Why is Stiles Stilinski in our book? He’s not a wolf.”

Stilinski. The name rings a familiar bell in his head, but he can’t place it. His body tenses at the realization that Erica knows Stiles. He goes to sit down next to her and takes the book out of her hands - which she now allows considering she’s gotten what she wanted. He sends her a persistent look. “He was looking into getting a tattoo. I said I’d do some research for him.”

Erica looks pensive, slightly confused, at the admission but then she lets herself fall backwards on the couch, releasing a pleased sigh as she grins. “You should do it. That man would like fine as hell with tattoos.”

The thought honestly hadn’t crossed Derek’s mind before, but yes, yes he would. Images of Stiles’ pale skin marked with tattoos fill up his head and that did things to Derek. He quickly swallows, hoping neither of his betas picked up on the whiff of attraction that must have come from him. He looks over at Erica, trying not to sound too interested as he speaks up. “You know him then?”

Judging by Erica’s smirk his blasé attitude was not working on her. “Stiles? Yeah he was in a couple of my classes in high school. Had a gigantic crush on him for the first few years, because damn is that a fine specism of human. Or well not fully human anymore I suppose.”

Derek nods, trying not to seem too keen for information here. “He’s a spark right?” 

“Yeah, whatever that is,” Erica shrugs mindlessly, lifting her hand to look at her freshly manicured nails, “he only really came into it after Scott was bitten.” 

Oh. So Stiles had a friend that was bitten. After werewolves became known, there was a phase where many humans wanted to become wolves as well. The issue was that not all of them wanted it for the right reasons. Being a wolf comes with power; the increased strength, healing and speed. A system had to be put in place in order to prevent power hungry people from misusing the bite. It was still a rather sensitive subject within society, there were humans still scared of wolves taking over and there were wolves that believed the bite shouldn’t be given at all.

But biting humans was something that had never really bothered Derek. At least, when they wanted it for the right reasons. 

Like Erica. She’d come to his mother requesting the bite to get rid of her epilepsy. Which was honestly ruining her life at the time, her attacks were almost weekly and she’d been half dead in the hospital too many times to count. His mother had wanted to help her out, but the thing with the Hale pack was that they didn’t take in many bitten betas. They were a family pack and his mother wanted to keep it that way. Derek had been an alpha for a year back then and whilst he was still happily a part of his mother’s pack, there was an urge inside him to build his own. Together with his mother, they decided Derek would be the one to bite her. She would become a part of his new pack - and therefore by extension also a part of his mother’s. 

Isaac hadn’t been as planned. Erica had called him in distress, saying that a close friend of hers was hurt. Derek had rushed over to see the boy lying in Erica’s arms, beaten up by his abusive asshole father and losing so much blood that Derek knew they would never reach a hospital in time. 

So he bit him. 

Biting without consent is against the law and Derek knew he could face prosecution for it. But as he’d looked at the pale colour of Isaac’s face, covered in streams of dark red blood, he hadn’t been able to hold back. Erica had been a crying mess next to him and whilst the bite thankfully took, Derek was terrified for when the boy would wake up and hate him for it. He could go to jail and whilst he’d only done it to save Isaac’s life, he knew he would have deserved to.

He’d never seen his mother angrier than when he’d told her the situation. Sixteen minutes of pure screaming at him over the phone as he drove Erica and Isaac to the preserve. There the entire Hale pack held its breath as Isaac came to, all of them expecting him to want to press charges. But then Isaac just cried out of thankfulness, so glad to be out of his house and no longer able to be hurt by his father. It had broken all of their hearts. 

Laura, who was then still a practicing attorney, had made up the official paperwork and together they got Isaac registered as a member of Derek’s pack. They also got his father in jail.

It had been the dumbest decision he’d ever made. But also one he would never regret. 

Erica looked at him expectantly, eyebrows raised, as he came out of his thoughts. She clicks her tongue. “But I have to ask, since when are you tattooing humans again Derek?”

Derek shrugs, not really knowing the answer to that question himself. “I just want to help him out.” 

“Sure Der,” Erica snickers, a dangerous gleam in her eyes, “which explains the blushing right?” 

“Shut up Erica.” 

Isaac’s client passes them by on her way out, the subtle quote Isaac had done on her forearm glistening in the light, and Derek nods as he finds it to be well done. Isaac was learning fast, soon Derek would allow him to do bigger pieces as well. 

Isaac walks over to them then, taking off his plastic gloves and tossing them into the bin beside Erica’s desk, and his eyebrows are high as he looks over at Derek. “Stiles is a nice guy. He’s a part of Mccall’s pack right, Er?” 

Erica nods in confirmation next to him and Derek suddenly knows who they’re talking about. Scott Mccall. The true alpha. He was kind of a big deal here in town. Derek remembers when his mother had told them about him. True alpha’s were extremely rare and there hadn’t been one in a long time. The kid had only been seventeen at the time and had no idea of what was happening to him so Talia had gone over to give him some advice and general guidance. He actually had been bitten by a rogue as well, if Derek remembers correctly. 

Usually there could only be one pack in a territory, but his mom had taken pity on the kid and had allowed him to stay in Beacon Hills with the rule that he would have to inform her of any pack expansions and issues he was facing. Derek had never met the guy himself, but his mother spoke quite highly of him. So did Deaton. 

So why was Deaton so against Stiles binding himself to this guy?

\---

It’s the next day, Derek having done some more research on binding tattoos, that he gathers to nerve to call up Stiles. His mobile rings a few times in his ear before a chipper voice fills up the line. “Stiles Stilinski speaking, who’s calling?” 

“Umh hi,” Derek mumbles out, “this is Derek from the tattoo shop.” 

“Oh, hi Derek!” Stiles’ voice went up slightly and Derek ignores the feeling bubbling up inside his stomach at hearing Stiles say his name. “How are things?” 

“Yeah,” Derek wants to slap himself for the difficulty he’s having forming sentences, “things are fine. I looked into binding tattoos and to be honest, it’s all a bit confusing for me. But from what I’ve gathered you’d need for a magic user to be present.” 

“I know yeah, I’ve been looking into getting someone but well the one guy I know who could do it is being a dick about and-” 

“You asked Deaton right?”

“Umh,” Stiles stumbles slightly and Derek thinks he hears something being dropped on his side of the call, making him grin, “you know Deaton?” 

“He’s my mother’s emissary.”

“Right, yeah, of course. I knew that. Should have known that.” Stiles is babbling slightly, releasing an embarrassed laugh into the phone. “Sorry for calling him a dick, he just you know..is acting like a dick.” 

Derek can’t help himself as he releases a snort. Deaton was being a bit of a dick to be fair. Curiosity overtakes him. “What did he say to you?” 

Stiles huffs out a laugh too and the sound is pleasant to Derek’s ears. “He was being all vague about it as usual. Something about how this is not the binding I should be making, like thanks doc, think I’ll decide that for myself.” 

Derek can’t help the grin that’s forming on his lips. Stiles just talks with so much energy, passion, determination, but he’s also so casual about it all. It makes Derek want to know more about him. He swallows, realizing he hasn’t really said anything for a while. “Well, we’d have to find a way around that then. And there are some other things I don’t really understand but-” 

“What don’t you understand? I know quite a bit about it obviously, so I’d be happy to explain things. I know I was a bit random and all over the place when I walked into your shop the other day, so definitely ask me whatever you need to know.”

“Oh, well it’s multiple things to be fair. I mean I'm just a tattooer, not a magic user.”

Stiles voice rises an octave higher and Derek can hear a sharp intake of breath. “What if we meet up? To discuss it and stuff? Are you free tomorrow by any chance?” 

“Umh, sure. I mean yes, I am.” Derek is thankful this conversation is over the phone, as he can feel his cheeks reddening at the thought of seeing Stiles again and he’s glad the other man is not there to witness it.

“Great! Shall we say the diner at one?”

“Yeah,” Derek scrapes his throat awkwardly, “that works.”

“Yes! Great! It’s a date then. See you there Derek.” 

As he lowers the phone, Stiles having hung up, Derek can’t help the fully formed blush that’s now on his cheeks. It was a date Stiles had said. Except it wasn’t. Not really. So why was he so pleased about it? Fucking hell. What is it about this guy that has suddenly turned him into a giddly schoolgirl?

Having taken a moment to compose himself, he pushes his phone back into his jean pocket and walks out of his room to go downstairs. Smells of roasted pork and caramelized onions fill up his nose and walking into the kitchen he can see his dad and his sister Kiara busy by the stoves. Kiara looks up when he walks in, eyebrows raised as she gives him a knowing look. She flicks her ashy blonde hair over her shoulder as she moves in to touch his neck mindlessly. Allowing her to scent him, he moves to ruffle her hair. She splutters out a laugh and goes back to stirring the roasted veggies in the sauté pan. 

Whilst Laura was probably the sibling he was closest with, Kiara was generally the sister he got along the best with. Mainly because she was the least mean one. She could obviously tell he was pleased about something, but just grinned instead of bugging him about it like Laura would. 

“Anything I can do to help?” Derek asks his dad, Andrew, who just shakes his head in reply. “Just sit down and entertain us Derek. Maybe tell us why you’re looking so pleased?” 

Derek sighs. And they say Laura and Cora got their teasing streak from mom. His dad just gives him a wide grin and Derek rolls his eyes as he sits down. Even though his dad was human, living with wolves for over thirty years had taught him all about recognizing emotions. Kiara laughs from behind the stove and slaps her father on his shoulder playfully. “Leave him alone dad. He’s actually smiling. We should hold onto this precious moment as long as we can.” 

Right. He should know better than expect anyone in this family to not pick on him. Shaking his head, he moves up to one of the cabinets and gets out plates in order to deck the table, pointedly ignoring the quiet laughter behind him. 

He swears one day he’ll not be the one always being laughed at, but it looks like today is not that day. Not that anything could really spoil his good mood though. The thought of meeting Stiles tomorrow keeps him smiling slightly throughout the rest of the evening.

\--

He feels silly as he looks at himself in the mirror for at least the seventh time today. He’s changed his shirt three times now and he is honestly annoying himself. His wolf is all nerves inside of him, which makes zero sense to Derek. He’s been on dates before. Quite a lot in fact. He’s actually still sort of dating Braeden - or well dating is maybe a bit of a generous term for it but yeah he’s still seeing her. Whatever. The point is, he’s usually never nervous for dates. 

And this isn’t even a date. It’s a business meeting if anything. 

Yet, something about Stiles makes his wolf eager and nervous and he finds himself wanting to impress the other man. It’s all just confusing to him. He changes his shirt one more time, deciding a simple black henley is probably best - it shows off his sleeve - before he walks outside and climbs into the camaro.

The diner is a place he doesn’t come too often. It’s on the other side of town and whenever his family goes out to eat they tend to pick something a bit healthier. He remembers having been here as a kid though and when he steps through the door the same identical black and white tiled floor he remembers greets him. He quickly finds Stiles in one of the booths by the window, even if his face is hidden away behind the plastic menu. Derek doesn’t think he could forget that scent even if he wanted to.

Sliding into the green leather couches, he gives a now visibly startled Stiles a wide toothed grin. “Hey.” 

Stiles releases a breath, holding his hand over his heart as he shakes his head. “God, are all you werewolves this sneaky?” 

Derek shrugs, still grinning with enjoyment of having been able to spook Stiles this much. “When we want to be.”

“You’re all jerks with your sneaky powers.” Stiles complains but he’s smiling now. “I ordered you a coffee already, black americano right?” 

Derek feels a frown fall onto his face. How had Stiles known that he drank his coffee black?

An amused sparkle fills up Stiles’ eye and he leans forwards towards Derek, lowering his voice as if he’s about to tell Derek a secret. “It’s part of my powers. I can tell what kind of coffee people drink by looking into their aura.”

“Really?” Derek feels a little amazed. He hadn’t known that kind of stuff was possible.

“No, of course not,” Stiles smirks, rolling his eyes at Derek, “you just look like a black coffee kind of guy. Would be a cool power though.” 

Derek sends a deadpan Stiles’ way, who in return just sticks out his tongue. The movement should look childish, but somehow it just made Derek’s cheeks heat up. Okay, maybe they should start talking about the actual tattoo before Derek embaresses himself. He folds his arms over each other as he looks back up at Stiles. “So, about the tattoo, there was something I wanted to-” 

“Oh shoot, wait,” Stiles moves in his seat, grabbing his backpack up from the floor before facing Derek with big eyes, “I think I thought of a design.” 

He hands Derek a block of college paper, the blue lines on the paper completely ignored in a quick sketch of a male body. Grey pencil shadows fill up contours of the body and Derek is impressed at the quality of the drawing. The shoulders on there are filled up with shadowy geometric figures, with long lines going down the figure’s arms. Derek arches an eyebrow as he looks back up. “You drew this?” 

“Yeah I’m not the best artist but-”

“It’s good Stiles.” 

A redness creeps into Stiles’ features and the way he lowers his eyes makes Derek’s stomach tighten. Stiles just laughs, something Derek noticed he did a lot when nervous, and goes on to babble. “Well yeah it’s just a quick idea. You know most binding tattoos are back pieces but I feel like a shoulder piece might fit my body better? Because you know, I’m skinny as shit so a whole back might be a lot. Anyway you’re the tattooer here so you might know better, what do you think?” 

“Umh,” Derek huffs out a laugh, trying to take in how much information a person could squeeze into just twenty seconds, “well, back pieces are usually intense. If a shoulder piece works for a binding as well, I don’t see why not. It would suit your..build.”

He tries not to let his eyes linger on Stiles’ frame. Not that Stiles would notice, as he’s grinning widely, flipping to another page of the notepad. “So within my pack we have just six members. I’d think it’d be nice if I could get something representing them all. Like Kira is a kitsune so maybe something like a fox for her. Lydia’s a banshee so-” 

“You have a banshee and a kitsune in your pack?” 

Stiles’ grin widens. “Yeah, we’re a pretty unique bunch. We actually have an ex-huntress too. It’s a long story.” 

Derek is sure his eyebrows are higher than they’ve ever been. He huffs out a laugh. “That does sound like a long story.”

Stiles smiles when the waitress walks over to their table, carefully placing two full cups of coffee on the table as she smiles sweetly. “Here you go Stiles. Did you guys want anything to eat as well?” 

“Oh! Do we?” Stiles looks at him with wide eyes, as if he hadn’t even considered the possibility, “I could do with some fries.”

The waitress shakes her head lovingly, grabbing her notepad out of the front pocket of her apron. “So curly cheese fries for Stiles, with some onion rings I take it?” 

Stiles looks at her with adoration. “You know me so well Francis.” 

“Just a burger for me, thanks.” Derek adds in, figuring this place probably serves hamburgers. 

Francis walks away at that, squeezing Stiles’ shoulder before she goes, and Derek smiles at the clear familiarity between them. “You here a lot then?” 

Stiles smiles, taking a sip from his ridiculous sugary looking coffee. “Yeah, me and my dad used to spend a lot of time here in between his shifts. Sometimes he left me here with Francis when he was working. It was nice.” 

“She seems like a great woman.” Derek smiles.

“Yeah,” Stiles scratches the top of his hand mindlessly, “anyway, the tattoo. Could you do like little symbols for everyone?” 

Derek nods, feeling a bit flustered at the reminder of why they were here in the first place: business. “That should be doable, I can work on a design. So shoulder blades and upper arms?” 

“Yep,” Stiles pops his p’s, “that would be good. I can tell you some more about them all?” 

“Yeah, sure. But Stiles, first I- I have to ask. About Deaton. Are you sure this is something you should do if he is against it?”

The smile falls off Stiles’ lips and an annoyed look comes onto his face. He rolls his eyes. “Deaton is not my dad. Even if he was my dad, I can still do what I want to do.” 

“I know that,” Derek swallows, worried he might have screwed things up here, “I didn’t mean it that way. I just- I have known Deaton for my whole life and to be fair, he is..weird.” 

Stiles snorts across from him. 

“But he is usually wise about this sort of stuff,” Derek continues, “did he tell you why he was against it?” 

“That’s the thing,” Stiles shakes his head, clearly irritated by the fact, “he didn’t even give any arguments. I mean, he’s been teaching me for years so I know how to read his vagueness. Like when I found out I might be magic all he said to me was ‘be the spark’ I mean who does that?” 

Derek can’t help but release a laugh. That does sound like the Deaton he knows. Francis comes over to bring them their dinner and Stiles groans in happiness as he immediately stuffs his face with fries. Somehow it looks endearing. Jesus, Derek bites his lip as he tries to shake the thoughts of finding Stiles endearing out of his head. This is supposed to be a professional client intake, even if it doesn’t feel like that.

“But he was even more of a vague prick about this whole binding thing than he was then. He just said that this is not the binding I should be making. Didn’t explain or anything, because when does he ever?”

Derek nods, understanding. Even though inside him, he finds himself agreeing with Deaton. The thought of Stiles binding himself to another pack feels wrong for some reason. He pushes that thought away, blaming it on the weird feelings his wolf has been having, and gets back to business. “Right. I just wanted to ask. I mean, if you want this tattoo then we do it.” 

The almost blinding smile that takes over Stiles’ lips is enough for him to ignore the unsettled feeling in his stomach.

\--

“The linework looks solid.” Derek leans over the design Isaac had made on the leg of the client under them. It was one of the first times Isaac had done a landscape piece and Derek was genuinely impressed at how well Isaac’s skills were developing. 

He points to an area on the right of the tattoo, where a bare tree takes centre stage, and looks up into Isaac’s expectant eyes. “Just add some more shadowing there, maybe some highlights as well.” 

Isaac nods, shooting him an unsure smile, and Derek clasps his shoulder. “It looks great Isaac.” 

Walking back to the front, Erica is giving him a sweet smile. “Look at you being an all proud alpha daddy.”

Derek frowns, distaste on his lips. “Please never call me that again.” 

Erica snickers, sticking out her tongue at him, and moves to grab their calendar from her desk. “So Derek, you’re pretty booked next week, but I got a call from this woman wanting a piece I think you would like very much. So I still squeezed her in on tuesday.” 

Derek arches his brow, taking the paper out of her hands. Erica’s sloppy handwriting gives him some key notes - realism, a single eye with the reflection of a crescent moon inside it - and he nods. He’d been wanting to practice on eyes anyway. “Sounds good Erica.” 

“Also,” Erica looks at him with a way too pleased smirk, “when should I plan in an appointment with your obvious crush?” 

Sending her an annoyed glare, he folds his arms over each other as he attempts to let his body language deny his crush. “Not for another few weeks, there’s still research to be done.”

“How is that going to work actually? You haven’t tattooed a human in years, shouldn’t you like..practice?” 

Swallowing, he realizes that he probably should. The whole situation with Stiles had been so sudden and complicated in other ways that he hadn’t even thought about that part. He had tattooed humans before, he knew how to use a regular tattoo gun, but ever since he opened his own shop he’d only done wolf tattoos. Only used blow torches, which he definitely shouldn’t use on human skin. 

Erica gives him a shrug. “My friend Caitlin has been looking to get tattooed, if you’d be up for that. She’s human.” 

Derek nods, feeling grateful at how even though Erica mostly wanted to tease him about this thing with Stiles - she’d still come through for him to help him with it. “Thanks Erica.” 

“Anything for you, alpha daddy.” 

\--

His laptop was burning hot on his lap, the letters on the screen dancing in front of his eyes. Stiles had sent him an email with some more details about his pack and it was one confusing pack. It was an interesting story though. Derek bites his lips as he thinks back to the excitement with which Stiles had told him about them. It was clear the guy had so much love for his pack. So much appreciation. 

It made his wolf both purr in seeing how well Stiles fit into a pack, but it growled in annoyance that it was for another pack. He sighs, annoyed by his own reaction. He doesn’t understand why he is reacting this strongly to any thought of Stiles. 

He’s only known the guy for a week and he doesn’t even know him that well. He should not be acting like this. It’s ridiculous. 

Kiara ploffs down next to him on the couch, laying her head on his shoulder as she squints at the screen. “What are you doing, Der?”

“Working out some details for a client,” he sighs, pushing the burning laptop off his lap, “it’s kind of a complicated piece.” 

“But you like that right?” 

“Yeah,” Derek looks over at his sister, “I do. I can’t wait to get to designing it. But it’s supposed to be a binding tattoo as well and I don’t know anything about that.”

“A binding tattoo?” Kiara sits up at that, eyebrows raised. “As in magical emissary binding?”

Derek nods and then sighs as he sees the judgemental Hale frown come over Kiara’s features. She quickly apologizes at seeing his look. “Der, just..is that something you should be doing?” 

“I don’t see why not.” He shrugs.

“I mean..if you’re sure then that’s okay.” Kiara gives him a small smile. “It just seems like it could become a complicated situation.” 

Derek bites on his lip. A complicated situation. That’s one way to describe it. But it doesn’t have to be. It shouldn’t be. He’s just tattooing Stiles. All he needs is a magic user to help him do it and that’s it then. 

He ignores the slight disappointment he feels at that thought. 

\--

Stiles and him have started texting each other updates throughout the week. Mostly about what the tattoo should look like and who they should pick to help them out. Derek constantly has to remind himself it was purely business. Stiles had just texted him about celtic symbols, apparently those were necessary within the tattoo to connect to Stiles’ magic. The problem is Derek didn’t know anything about celtic symbols. But he knew someone who did. 

Derek walks into Peter’s study the next day and his uncle raises his eyebrows at seeing him there. “Derek. Everything okay?” 

Lucas is sitting at the desk next to his father, working on some school work it looks like, and also gives Derek a frown. Derek swallows, feeling a bit awkward under their stares, and moves to the large wooden bookcase on their right. “I’m looking into some celtic symbols for a tattoo I’m doing. You have some books on them right?” 

“I do.” Peter stands up, a calculating look in his eyes as he moves towards his nephew. “So this tattoo, is it the same tattoo you were talking to Kiara about yesterday? The binding one?” 

Derek nods, not surprised his uncle figured out the connection. Also not surprised that he was apparently listening in. “I don’t know a whole lot about it, but he lives nearby, so he’s coming over here later to look at it together.” 

“He lives nearby?” Peter’s eyebrows rise even higher as he grabs a thick, worn book from the shelves and hands it to Derek. “You wouldn’t be tattooing our local spark, would you Derek?” 

Apparently Stiles’ spark status was more common knowledge than Derek had known. He sends his uncle a frown, confused as to why it would matter, and Peter shrugs, explaining himself. “Just a shame to see the little spark bind itself to a pack that is not us. He would have been a great addition here.” 

Whilst Derek never likes agreeing with Peter, he finds that this time he does. 

Stiles came over an hour later, ringing the doorbell, and Laura laughed at him for how excitedly he ran to the door to let him in. He sends her a glare over his shoulder as Stiles walks into their home. His wolf leaps inside his chest at the scent of Stiles mixing with the scents of his pack. 

Before Derek can even properly greet Stiles, Laura is next to him. “Hi, I’m Laura. Derek’s sister.” 

“Hi Laura. Nice to meet you.” Stiles gives her a genuine smile, kicking off his shoes and placing them next to the door without even looking down at his feet. 

“And very nice to meet you.” Laura sends him an almost feral grin and Derek tries to give her his hardest glare without Stiles seeing. She just rolls her eyes before walking back to where she was working on a new lesson plan at the dinner table.

When he looks back Stiles is smiling at him expectantly. He clears his throat. “I figured we could sit upstairs in my uncle’s study.” 

“Fine by me.” Stiles smiles as he motions for Derek to lead the way.

Thankfully Peter and Lucas had cleared from the study and Derek smiled when he saw Peter had pulled out some more books for them. His uncle could be a nice guy, even if it was rarely. Stiles lets out a little gasp behind him and Derek turns with a small grin. 

Stiles’ eyes are wide and filled with a sense of amazement as he takes in the room, quickly walking towards the bookshelves and letting his fingers brush over the spines. “This is the biggest collection of supernatural books I’ve ever seen.” 

Derek shrugs, cheeks reddening as he realizes he’s never really thought of it as something special. It’s clear that it is special to Stiles, with the way the other man is now engrossed in the titles on the back of the books. Derek swallows, using the moment to watch Stiles for a bit. Stiles’ fingers are curled around an old looking book, eyes filled with a sparkle that makes him look even more attractive. Derek’s eyes move to the way Stiles’ body flexes as he steps on his toes to reach a higher shelf. Flashes of making that body curve in different ways fill his mind and Derek has to swallow at the intensity of them. His muscles tighten at being in such close proximity to the spark again.

Stiles looks at him then, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he sends him a tentative smile. “Sorry, it’s just..these books. It’s..I wish I would have had these when it all started out.”

Derek can’t help but be intrigued. “When what started out?” 

“This whole mess.” Stiles laughs, but there is no humour in the sound. “I mean things are okay now, but it was bad when it all started out, Scott being bitten, Lydia and me figuring out our powers, you know?” 

Derek didn’t know. Being a born wolf, the supernatural had always been a part of his life. His wolf was an extension of him, it was who he was. He had never had to come to terms with a new part of him. Had never been forced into being something else. He looks back up at Stiles. “I can imagine it being hard to figure out.”

Stiles laughs breathlessly as he lets himself fall down into a chair. “That’s a way to put it yeah. Scott had no idea what was happening to him and I had no idea what to do with a now shifting werewolf. His first full moon, I actually chained him to a radiator.”

Derek sputters out a laugh at that mental image, but his chest fills up with respect for the man in front of him. He can’t imagine being human and having to contain a werewolf that’s not in control of his powers. Chaining him to a radiator might not have been the best idea, but he can see how you wouldn’t know what else to do. He sits down in a chair close to Stiles. “It’s hard to get control over your shift, for born wolves too sometimes. If you don’t have an anchor, it’s hard.” 

Stiles nods knowingly. “Thank god Allison came into town when she did. Can’t imagine having to help Scott pick an anchor otherwise.” 

Allison must be Scott’s girlfriend then. Derek grimaces at the thought of not having his anchor, his family, and feels uneasy as he looks up at Stiles. “Scott was bitten by a rogue right?”

Stiles nods, his hands tightening around the book he’s now picked up from the desk. “Yeah. It was a mess back then. I mean things are still a bit of a mess now, but I feel we’ve grown into our roles pretty well.” 

A sinking feeling fills Derek’s chest. “Must be if you’re now becoming his emissary.” 

Stiles shifts in his seat, a smile coming onto his lips. Love and care filling up his scent. “Scott’s my best friend. And a great alpha to us. It only makes sense.” 

Derek nods, for some reason not being able to shake the disappointment he feels at that statement. He grabs the book Peter handed him this morning. “Let’s get started then.”

They spent the next hour flipping through the pages of celtic symbols and spells. Stiles’ eyes fill up with excitement at the abundant knowledge contained within the bindings and Derek tries to contain his smile at seeing it. He’s taking notes of whatever symbols Stiles feels should be represented in the tattoo. Obviously the binding one needs to have a central role, but they discuss adding extra ones to represent protection and strength. 

Then they flip to symbols of harm and Stiles seems to want to add those on as well. Derek doesn’t like it. Adding those would mean that Stiles could never harm whoever Stiles binds himself to. Which doesn’t sound bad at first glance, but it would mean that if these people were ever to turn on Stiles - Stiles couldn’t fight back. 

“Are you sure that is a good idea?” Derek can’t help his concerns. 

Stiles shrugs, looking up at Derek with big eyes. “Most binding tattoos include them.”

“I-” Derek scrapes his throat, his wolf is clawing inside his chest at the thought of Stiles getting hurt because of a tattoo he would set, “I don’t know if I’m comfortable with that.”

Stiles’ brows puzzle. “What do you mean?” 

“Well,” Derek swallows, the eye contact between them becoming intense, “if they were ever to, you know, harm you, you wouldn’t be able to do anything.”

“They’d never harm me though.” Stiles almost whispers, his eyes focused sharply on Derek’s. It sends a rush through Derek’s body.

“How can you be sure?” 

Stiles’ eyes are earnest as he answers. “Because I trust them.” 

The air between them seems to tense, both of them looking at the other as they obviously don’t agree with each other. Derek bites his lip at the intensity and for a second he swears he sees Stiles’ eyes drop down to them. The movement was quick though as Stiles’ eyes are soon back on his, making Derek feel like he imagined it.

“You never know what can happen.” Derek speaks up. “If it’s not necessary, why put it on?”

“It’s an emissary tradition.” Stiles swallows visibly, breaking their eye contact as he moves backwards in his chair. “Ask Deaton if he has one on you, because I’m pretty sure he does.”

Derek swallows too, looking back at the mark in the open book. “I’ll read up on it.” 

Stiles leaves half an hour later and as soon as he’s out the door Laura jumps on Derek, wrapping her arm around him tightly. Her voice is teasing when she speaks up. “You like him, don’t you?”

“Shut up Laura.”

\--

Smells of teriyaki and ginger fill up his nose as he comes back home from work, guiding him straight to the kitchen. His dad is standing behind the stove, stirring in one of the pots, and sends him a small smile as he hears him entering.

Talia is sitting at the kitchen table, pushing away the paperwork in front of her as she smiles up at Derek. “How was your day sweetheart?”

“Fine.” He releases a sigh as he cracks his back. Mondays were always the worst.

His mother smiles at him warmly, pouring him a cup of tea out of the pot next to her. “Deaton asked me if you were going through with tattooing Stiles.”

Derek can’t help the sigh falling from his lips. Why was his entire family suddenly aware of this Stiles situation? And why was it such a big deal to everyone?

He looks at his mom pointedly. “I am.” 

She gives him an equally pointed look in return, laughter sparkling in her eyes. “Don’t get grumpy on me Derek, I was just asking.”

“I’m sorry,” Derek sighs, “everyone just seems to have an opinion on it. Deaton especially.”

“I’ve heard it yes.” His mother takes a sip from her tea, eyes looking at him warmly from over the edge of the flowered cup. “He has his reasons. But like he said to you, he is not going to be stopping you if you decide to push through.” 

“Okay am I missing something?” Derek’s brows furrow. “Why is everyone acting like this tattoo is such a big deal?” 

“Binding tattoos are a big deal Derek,” Peter sounders into the kitchen, eyes on Derek as he joins them at the table, “especially for a being as powerful as a spark.”

Derek can see Talia giving Peter a pointed look from across the table and Derek just feels even more confused. He must be missing something. Something his family does seem to know. 

“So who are you going to ask to perform the binding spell?” Peter’s eyes are smug as he looks at Derek. “Deaton is not an option obviously.” 

“I’m still looking into it.” Derek grunts out, annoyance with his uncle’s smugness overtaking him. 

“Maybe he could do it himself,” Peter shrugs and Talia flashes her eyes red at him. It’s a clear warning of some sorts, but it just leaves Derek confused. 

Peter just raises his hands in mock innocence. “What? Sparks are capable of a lot more than regular druids are.”

The loud thud of his father placing the chicken filled pan on the table makes them look up from their conversation. His father is looking down at them with a grin, always pleased when none of the wolves hear him coming. “How about you all stop this strange conversation you’re having and we go enjoy dinner?”

As the rest of the family swarms into the kitchen Derek can only think that his dad was right. It had been a strange conversation and he didn’t know what to make of it.

\--

The curly hair of the girl in front of him tickles his nose and he huffs out an annoyed breath, taking a step backwards. Not that he has much room to do so, considering the broad balding man that’s standing behind him. God, he hated standing in line. 

The smell of grinded coffee beans fills up the air and settles his bad mood a little bit. They did have the best coffee in town here. Which is why his currently midterm studying sisters had forced him to go get them some. And well..he’s anything if not a pushover.

Apparently the scent of the coffee was so strong, that once he had his three to go cups in his hand, he hadn’t even noticed Stiles was sitting at one of the tables. He halts in his place, letting his eyes wander over to Stiles as the guy is working on his laptop. His eyes are squinted in focus, staring down at the screen, and he’s sucking mindlessly on the pen he’s holding. His lips curled around the pen attractively and Derek has to compose himself, pushing down the flash of want rushing through him, before stepping forwards. “Stiles.” 

Stiles looks up from his work, a smile coming to his lips at seeing it’s Derek. “Hey Derek! What’s up?”

“Just getting my sisters some coffee,” he shrugs, “it’s midterms week. They’re pretty stressed out.”

“Them and me both.” Stiles huffs out a laugh as he motions to the empty chair in front of him.

Derek sits down, even though he knows the coffee in his hands might go cold if he does so - but not finding it in himself to care. “You got deadlines coming up then?”

“So many,” Stiles sighs as he takes a sip of his mocha, “an essay for my criminology class and two presentations for my supernaturals today classes.” 

“That sounds complicated.” Derek swallows as he tries to continue on the conversation. “You enjoying college?” 

“I love it,” Stiles’ eyes light up, “I mean it’s a lot of work but I love to research. Back when Scott was bitten I did all the research into the whole being a turned werewolf thing. Then again for Lydia when she got into her powers and again for myself. It’s kind of fun to me.”

A small smile comes to his lips, genuinely impressed by the way Stiles had handled that situation back then. “Sounds like you did a lot of work for your pack. Must have helped them out a lot.”

“Ah, well,” Stiles shrugs, “it was no big deal. We do what we have to, right?” 

“Still,” Derek looks at Stiles earnestly, “not everyone would go to that trouble. Don’t undersell yourself.” 

A pink blush reaches Stiles’ cheeks at the compliment and Derek’s eyes are pulled to the way it heats up his neck as well. Their eyes connect, Stiles honey golden eyes shining attractively in the light, before Stiles breaks the eye contact to smile down at the table shyly, clearly not knowing how to respond. “Thanks Derek. But what about you? What did you study?” 

Derek looks down to the cups he’s holding, shame marking his cheeks red at the question. Stiles was so educated and he hadn’t really done..anything of that sort. “I never went to college to be honest.”

He motions to his arms and the tattoos that are visible on them. “Kind of got sidetracked.”

“For a good reason it seems.” Stiles’ eyes linger appreciatively on his forearms and when he looks back up there’s an intensity in his eyes. They stare at each other from across the table and this time Derek is sure he didn’t imagine the quick one over Stiles gave him. 

Grinning slightly, he stands up from the table. “I’ll speak to you later Stiles, let me know what you find out about using your own magic for the binding.”

\--

It’s tuesday when he’s working on the first sketch for Stiles’ tattoo. One of the old magic books from Peter’s library is open in front of him and Derek’s looking at the celtic symbols, attempting to create an outline of them. They’re pretty intricate symbols and Derek is working on copying the knots and ties within one of them. Drawing is never usually a problem for him, but he knows he has to copy these directly. Otherwise they won’t mean anything.

His phone beeps from where he put it down on his desk. Flipping it over, the corners of his lip curve upwards at seeing it’s a text from Stiles.

 **Stiles:** _looking into whole doing it myself thing_

 **Stiles:** _seems difficult but could do it maybe. Will update u later_

He’s typing out a reply, conflicted about what to say exactly, when he notices Erica approaching.

“Derek,” she’s standing behind his chair, a knowing grin at her lips, “I have your next appointment ready.”

Right. Eye lady was coming in.

Eye lady turned out to be a rather attractive brunette, with wavy hair pulled up in a braid. She was wearing a buttoned up blouse and pencil skirt, the neat outfit contrasting with the grunge decor of his shop. Derek tries to keep his face neutral, but she was not like the usual person wanting a tattoo. His nose told him she was a beta, but there was something else present in her scent too. 

Once she saw him she smiled, walking forwards and extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Jennifer.” 

Derek sends her a friendly nod, feeling an odd sensation when he shakes her hand. He suppresses his reaction and takes her back with him to his station. Once there it turns out his first impression of her was wrong. Having taken off her blouse, he finds her entire back to be covered in an intricate tattoo. Vines are crawling across her body, coming together in knots on her spine. They shape her silhouette with leaves and an occasional flower.

His eyes widen as he recognizes a few of the celtic symbols he was studying earlier within the vines. “Is that a binding tattoo?”

Jennifer looks over her shoulder, eyes shining with intrigue. “Yeah I’m an emissary.” 

“I didn’t know witches could be wolves as well.” Derek moves around to grab his stencil, placing it on her forearm. 

“My alpha bit me to save my life,” she shrugs as if it was no big deal, “and I’m a druid actually.” 

Derek feels his cheeks reddening, feeling a little bad about having misidentified her, and pulls away the clear paper to see the lines of the stencil had transferred successfully. “I’m actually going to be setting one later this year.” 

“A binding tattoo?” She looks at him puzzled as he starts working on her tattoo. “How does that work with you not being magic?” 

“We’d need a magic user present to do the actual binding. But he’s a spark, so we’re also looking into whether he could use his own magic.”

“A spark? Really?” Her voice rises an octave as she speaks up. “That’s unique. They’re pretty powerful aren’t they? Supposed to be ten times stronger than your average witch.” 

“I suppose.” Derek frowns, not sure why she’d be asking that. 

“Makes sense he could bind himself then.” She gives him a sweet looking smile. “My binding tattoo was set by my magic teacher but I’ve also set one myself a couple of years ago, so if you need some help figuring it out, let me know.” 

“Thanks, that’d be nice.” Derek releases a breath he didn’t even realize he’d been holding. It would be nice to have someone who did it before. Who knows how it all works.

Three hours later the piece is finished, Derek having added a realistic looking shine across the eye - as if the person was on the edge of tears. Jennifer is looking in their mirror with a pleased smile on her lips. 

“I love it.” She steps back to face him, eyes serious. “Thanks alpha Hale. It’s been an interesting afternoon.”

With that she walks out the door, waving goodbye with her left hand, and whilst Derek appreciated her offer of wanting to help out; something about her irks him.

\--

The pin-up sketch is staring up at him from his desk and it just looks..wrong. The girl itself is fine, the proportions are fine, but then the half shift his client had requested..he just can’t make it look sexy. Or biologically correct. 

Annoyed, he walks over to Erica. The sketch balled up in his right hand. “So this guy wanted a half shifted girl? But not the face?”

Erica nods, exasperation becoming visible on her face as she recalls the phone call. “He was super pushy about it. He wanted the half shift with the claws and the eyes, but not the face because apparently female half shifts are disgusting in their faces.” 

The annoyance is clear on her face. Derek huffs out a grunt. Sounds like this guy is a total tool. “And the ears?” 

“Those were allowed.” She rolls her eyes at the memory. “It’s just the beta face he found repelling. You know I actually asked him if he found it repelling on himself, but it was just with the girls.” 

Derek shakes his head. Sometimes he forgot how many dickheads there were in the world. He’s not looking forward to tattooing this guy. “When is he coming?” 

“Next week. Wednesday morning.” Erica looks over to their diary before looking back at him. “Just so you know, I’ll be sick that day.” 

A grin comes onto his lips and he thinks he’d actually allow her to come in a little later if she wanted to. The guy sounded like a sexist prick, so he can imagine Erica feeling uncomfortable.

The ring of the doorbell makes them both look up towards their entrance. Stiles is standing there, door still in his hand, and he smiles as he walks in. “Hey guys.” 

Erica actually purrs next to him, shifting in her seat and pushing her chest forwards seductively. “Hi Batman.” 

“My dear catwoman,” Stiles laughs easily, “good to see you again.” 

“Very good,” Erica blatantly flits and Derek knows she’s just doing it to get a rise out of him with the way she’s constantly mocking his so called crush on Stiles. It annoys him that it’s actually working, his wolf growling inside his chest.

He folds his arms over each other. “What can I do for you Stiles?” 

“Oh right,” Stiles grins, flustered as he moves to get something out of his backpack, “I found an old transcript on self binding and binding tattoos in general, figured you might want to read it as well.” 

Derek nods, taking the papers from Stiles, and their hands touch briefly. The spike of want he feels at the short touch is almost embarrassing. Stiles doesn’t seem to notice, still smiling brightly, as he motions back to the door. “Right I actually have class still, just wanted to pop in to give you that, but I’ll speak to you later?” 

“Yeah,” Derek stammers out, very aware of Erica’s eyes on him, “later- later is good.” 

If Stiles notices his awkwardness, he doesn’t show it. He walks out the door, waving briefly as he leaves.

Erica huffs out a snicker, eyes judgemental as she looks at him. “God, you’re hopeless.”

\--

“So, dad’s birthday is in a few weeks,” Laura says as she walks over, balancing both a bowl of salted popcorn and a pot of fresh coffee in her hands, “anyone got any ideas?” 

Cora moves forwards to grab the popcorn out of her hands, immediately taking a handful as she settles back down on the couch. She looks over at where Kiara’s sitting. “Yeah Kiara, any ideas?”

A sigh falls from Kiara’s lips and she glares at Cora. “Why do I always have to think of everything?” 

“Because you’re dad’s carbon copy.” Cora grins, pleased to have gotten a rise out of her sister. 

Laura shakes her head, pouring them all a cup of coffee, as she goes into her I’m-going-to-be-the-alpha mode. “Stop it you guys. We need to think of something together.” 

Derek shrugs. “Maybe something for the kitchen?” 

“We get him something for the kitchen every year though.” Laura looks conflicted.

“And he just bought himself this fancy mixer,” Kiara adds, also frowning as she thinks it over, “he’s still way too pleased about that.” 

Derek sighs, there were always too many opinions when they tried to think of a gift. Which is why he’d gotten mom his own gift last year, which his sisters still hadn’t forgiven him for. “What about a book then? Any he still wants?” 

“We can’t get him a book,” Cora gives him a look of distaste, “boring alert.”

“Well you think of something then!” Kiara bites at her younger sister, moving to angrily grab a hand of popcorn out of the bowl.

Cora’s face forms into an annoyed frown. “Fuck off Kiara, what are you so catty for?” 

Okay, Derek is done with this conversation. His three sisters are still screaming ideas at each other, or more like arguing about who should come up with an idea. Rolling his eyes, he pulls out his phone. 

**Stiles:** _random question, say you were in a situation, hypothetically, where your werewolf buddy is high on weed and can’t shift back anymore, what would u do_

Derek almost spits out the sip of coffee he’d had in his mouth. Because what now? An amused grin comes onto his lips. 

**Derek:** _how hypothetical is this hypothetical situation?_

 **Stiles:** _0%_

He can’t help it, he barks out a laugh. He can just picture the exasperated expression on Stiles’ face as he tries to calm down the high as a kite werewolf.

“What are you laughing at, dickface?” Cora gives him a frown. 

“Nothing,” Derek sends her an annoyed glare, “have you thought of a gift yet?” 

“Derek.” Laura has her reprimanding almost alpha voice on now. “Help out a little.” 

“I just gave you two ideas!” He waves the hand not currently holding coffee at them. “Not my fault you guys shoot them down.”

Feeling irritated, he goes back to his phone. 

**Derek:** _was it laced weed?_

 **Stiles:** _let me ask_

 **Stiles:** _Liam doesn’t even know._

 **Stiles:** _he’s such an idiot_

So it was Liam. Thinking back to how the beta had called Derek his bro during their tattoo session, that actually makes sense. It also makes it funnier. He snickers a little, earning him a judgmental look from Cora.

 **Derek:** _is he calling you his bro_

 **Stiles:** _yes. That is not a weed related problem tho_

Derek snorts, wanting to type out a more serious reply next when his phone is suddenly no longer inside his hands. He looks up with a frown at seeing Cora now has it in her hands. “Who are you texting?” 

“Give that back!” He moves to grab it, but Cora has extremely quick reflexes and avoids him as she now jumps onto the couch.

“Oh my god guys,” Laura screams out, managing to pluck the phone out of Cora’s hands, “what are we, five years old?”

“More like twelve.” Kiara shoots Cora’s way, eyebrows still looking displeased.

Laura sighs loudly, letting herself fall into the pillows of the couch. “I hate you all. I actually hate you all.” 

It’s quiet for a few seconds, all of them agreeing with Laura’s statement, when Cora speaks back up. Her voice a bit softer. “What about if we get him a cooking class? They have nice ones up in Sacramento.”

“That’s..a really good idea actually.” Kiara smiles, moving down to squeeze her sister’s knee. “I’ll look into one he’ll like.” 

Laura releases a satisfied breath, moving back onto the couch. “Glad we could work it out guys.”

She hands Derek his phone back and he opens back up his messages, realizing he’d not really been helping Stiles with his current problem.

 **Derek:** _does he usually control his shifts ?_

When he doesn’t get an immediate reply, he goes back to the sketchbook on his lap. His sisters are discussing what to have for dinner around him and he grabs his pencil from the coffee table as he starts sketching out some last details for a tattoo he’d be setting tomorrow.

He really wanted to get working on the design for Stiles’ tattoo, but he also still had his regular clients to attend to. Letting his pencil slide over the paper, he decides he needs to redo the eyes of the Tinkerbell he’s drawing. Disney characters have bigger eyes than actual people, something Derek had forgotten to take into account considering he usually does more realistic stuff. 

**Stiles:** _sorry he just smashed one of our lamps to pieces_

 **Stiles** : _it_ _fucking slashed me as well_

 **Stiles:** _he’s such a dickhead_

Derek bites on the insides of his cheeks at reading that, his heart jumping up in concern, and he makes quick work of his reply.

 **Derek:** _What? Are you okay? Do I need to come over to help?_

His wolf is anxious in his chest, the thought of Stiles being near an uncontrolled werewolf bothering him, and he taps his fingers on his sketchbook nervously as he waits for Stiles’ reply to come in.

 **Stiles:** _no we’re all good, thank u tho. Scott came so Liam finally settled._

 **Derek:** _ok. Glad to hear that. You sure you’re okay?_

 **Stiles:** _i’m fine, just a scratch no worries :)_

 **Stiles:** _Liam still a dickhead tho._

 **Stiles:** _Also thanks for wanting to help._ _you’ll have to excuse me, I have a lamp to fix_

 **Derek:** _No problem. Have fun w the lamp._

“Okay honestly, who are you texting?” Cora scrunches her nose. “You’re smelling all lovingly concerned and happy. It’s gross.” 

“Probably that Stiles guy.” Laura grins and before he knows what’s happening his sisters are extensively discussing his love life. He flees the room.

\--

Whilst Derek still had mixed feelings about Stiles’ binding, or well his wolf had mixed feelings about it, he was loving designing the tattoo. The idea of it was really nice to Derek. Taking individual drawings for each pack member and then tying them together with the celtic symbols. It was personal. It was very Stiles.

He’d taken the binding symbol as the central part of the tattoo, having it mirrored on both the shoulders, with elongated, straight lines coming from them. Each of the lines would link up to a member of the pack. So far he’d designed two of them: a tribal looking arrow for the hunter girl, he believes her name is Allison, and two circles within each other for the alpha Scott. Apparently that was a design Scott had been wanting to get tattooed himself for ages.

Derek had told Stiles he’d happily do it, which was worth the happy smileys Stiles texted him in return. Derek was slightly anxious about meeting Stiles’ alpha though, especially with the way his wolf was acting around Stiles. 

Because that hadn’t changed a bit. His wolf was constantly reacting to everything about Stiles, wanting him to get closer. Whilst Derek saw his wolf as a part of himself, they were instincts he could suppress if he needed to. And right now, he felt like he needed to. He did like Stiles. Quite a bit actually. The situation was just weird. 

Looking at his phone, he sees he has an unopened text from Braeden. He grimaces, realizing he’d completely forgotten about her existence. The text was asking him if he wanted to meet for a drink tonight. He debates it over for a brief second, but he knows his heart wouldn’t be in it. It would feel wrong. 

Thank god their agreement had always been casual. 

He looks up when a familiar scent fills his nose. Hints of salty sea, freshly fallen rain on green leaves and a spike of citrus. Grinning as he recognizes it, he walks to the front of the shop to see his great uncle smiling down at him. “Michael!” 

“Hey little nephew!” Michael laughs loudly, wrapping his tattoo covered arms around Derek. He looked older than Derek remembered, his hair now graying at the edges, and lines of laughter having settled permanently on his face. There’s a new tattoo in his neck, traditional japanese flower blossoms, and his skin looks tanned.

Derek has a smile plastered on his face. “What are you doing here? I thought you were still in Malesia.”

“Just figured I’d pop into the first ever werewolf tattoo shop.” Michael grins, pride visible in his expression. “See how my apprentice is doing.” 

Derek rolls his eyes. Michael still liked to call him his apprentice, as a way to remind him of where he came from as well as to establish himself as the true tattooer. They both knew Derek had long since surpassed him, but there was an unspoken promise to humour the situation. Michael wanders further into the shop, casting his eyes over the flash art on the wall with a pleased smile. Erica, who’d been on her lunch break, walks in carrying a fresh pastry and raises an inquiring eyebrow when she smells the similar Hale scent on the older man in their shop. “Who’s this?” 

Michael sends her a blinding smile, a flirtatious gleam coming over his eyes, and he steps forwards to kiss Erica’s hand. “Michael Hale, pleasure to make the acquaintance of such a lovely lady.” 

Yeah. Michael was definitely cut from the same cloth as Peter was. Derek couldn’t help his grin. They all walk back to where Isaac is tattooing, Erica enjoying Michael’s flirting a little bit too much, and once they reach Isaac Michael quickly starts taking over Derek’s mentor role, advising Isaac on where to place some more shadows. 

Luckily it was already four o’clock and Derek didn’t have any more clients coming in for the day. He pops a text to his mother that Michael is in town and that they’ll be over for dinner, before moving towards the mini fridge and grabbing a few beers as amused chatter fills up the shop. 

The rest of the evening is spent in the Hale house, Michael telling embarrassing childhood stories about Peter and Talia as they have dinner, looking over at Isaac’s and Derek’s sketchbooks and holding intricate discussions with Kiara about his travels through South Asia. Michael had always been a part of their pack, but had never truly settled with them. He’d declared himself a nomad wolf and whilst there were nomadic packs out there, Michael had wanted to stay a Hale. It was never a problem within their pack, the bonds were used to being stretched a little, but all wolves were pleased to have their pack member back home. 

After dinner Derek helps his dad prepare some wine cocktails in the kitchen, when they hear the recognizable sound of breaking glass. Hurrying into the living room, Derek can’t help the laugh he spits out at seeing Michael hilariously wrestling with Peter on their living room floor. A broken vase lies at their feet and Cora and Lucas stand cheering on the couch.

His mother comes rushing in, eyes annoyed as she looks at her brother and cousin. “I swear, some things never change. You’ll buy me a new vase, Michael.” 

“What?” Michael huffs out, heading out of the complicated tangling of Peter’s arms. “He started it.” 

Laura snickers next to them and Derek finds himself doing the same. They all loved uncle Michael and this was exactly why. He was a little crazy, filled with a youthful spirit despite being almost sixty. He was a loving guy too, always smiling and making friends wherever he went.

His father comes out with a tray of glasses, rolling his eyes at the display before him, and they settle on the couch with a drink. The conversation continues, Michael wanting an update on everyone’s lives, and when they reach Derek he realizes he doesn’t really know what to say. “Yeah the shop is coming along great. Business is good.”

Michael gets a fond smile on his face. “Still a man of few words, huh Derek?”

A blush reaches his cheeks and he quickly takes a sip from his drink. He was a man of few words. Never had a problem with it either. Laura smirks dangerously from next to him. “He’s going to be setting a binding tattoo soon.” 

“Thank god you have Laura to speak for you.” Michael rolls his eyes towards Laura and Derek huffs out a laugh when Laura’s cheeks redden. Michael had always reprimanded his sisters when they trampled over Derek, which was probably why Derek was so fond of him. 

He looks up to see Michael smiling thoughtfully. “But a binding tattoo? That will be an experience.”

“Have you done one?” Derek looks up at his great uncle.

Michael nods, grinning. “I did one for the Maya tribe I lived with. Their local witch hadn’t been bound yet, so I did the honours. It’s really weird, spells are being cast around you, and it wasn’t my best work to be fair. I just couldn’t focus with all the witchy stuff going on. Have you looked into all symbols yet?”

Derek sighs, helplessness filling up his eyes. “I don’t understand it at all.” 

They move to the dinner table, the rest of the family protesting that Derek isn’t allowed to take up their time with Michael. Derek can’t find it in himself to care and spends the rest of the night listening to Michael pointing out all symbols he used and their meaning and effects. He feels a lot more confident about it now.

\--

Michael had stayed for two more days before leaving this morning. Derek had been sad about it, but the shop had been busy with appointments so he had enough to do. Isaac groans from next to him, stretching his neck. It had been a long day of work and as they watched their last client leave through the front door, the bell ringing behind them, they all simultaneously released a sigh. 

Erica looks up at them, a dangerous sparkle in her eyes, as she runs over to her desk and pulls a bottle of gin out of her bottom drawer. Derek gives her a glare, why was she keeping alcohol in her desk? 

She just rolls her eyes at him, smirking. “Don’t be a buzzkill Derek, we’ve deserved it.” 

Isaac huffs out a quiet laugh but happily takes one of the glasses Erica’s pouring. At Derek’s look, he just shrugs. “It was a long day.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t protest further as he accepts the glass and takes a sip of the wolfsbane laced drink. The alcohol burns in his throat and he finds himself enjoying the biting sensation. 

“Yes!” Erica yells happily, wrapping her arm around him familiarly. “Let’s go out tonight. Just the three of us. Pack bonding time.” 

“Erica-” 

“Don’t Erica me now Derek, just be a good alpha daddy and let us get drunk as a pack.”

A laugh bubbles through his chest, whilst not pleased that nickname is apparently sticking, and he knows he should say no, he actually doesn’t mind the idea. 

Two hours and another bottle of spiked gin later, they’re in Jungle. It was one of the only clubs in Beacon Hills and whilst it was technically a gay bar, most of the people from town went there when they wanted to dance. Erica swore it would be a good time. 

She was dancing wildly in front of him, swinging her hips to the beat of the music, showing a little too much in the short skirt she’s wearing if you ask him. But he liked seeing her confidence. She hadn’t had that when he first met her and it was good to see her getting more comfortable in her own skin.

Isaac was dancing next to her, a bit more modestly, but he too looked like he was having a good time. Derek was too, but he wasn’t really on the same level as his betas. Being a born wolf, his wolfsbane tolerance was a bit higher. He signals to Isaac that he’s heading towards the bar and Isaac nods, motioning to bring back drinks for them too.

He notices people looking at him as he walks to the bar and he grins. Laura and Kiara had always told him he was good looking, but it was in places like this that he realized more people agreed with that judgement. A cute looking Asian girl is giving him a once over as he steps next to her up to the bar and he gives her a charming smile. Her eyes linger on his tattooed arms and he can see her eyes widen with realization. 

She turns around to him, a small smile on her lips. “Are you Derek Hale by any chance?” 

His eyebrows rise, not knowing what to make of that, and he can see her getting flustered in front of him. “No, I’m not a stalker or anything, it’s just my friend Stiles, he talks about you a lot.” 

Oh so she was a friend of Stiles’. And apparently Stiles talked about him a lot. He ignores the jump his heart makes at hearing that. A smile falls onto his lips and he orders her a drink as well. 

She gives him a sweet smile, thanking him, and they tap their drinks together. “I’m Kira by the way!” She screams over the loud music.

“Ah, the kitsune right?” 

She nods enthusiastically, opening her mouth to speak up when a broad arm wraps around her. The now familiar scent of caramelized pears fills his nose and Derek can feel himself relaxing as he looks up at Stiles. 

Which was a mistake, because Stiles looks fucking hot tonight. His eyes are wide, sparkling with pleasure. His hairs are gelled up to the side, some loose strands sticking to the thin layer of sweat on his forehead. Lips hung slightly open and Derek has to control himself to not let his mind go to darker places. 

Stiles looks up through his eyelashes, an excited glee visible in his eyes. “Derek! What are you doing here?”

Derek shrugs, feeling his cheeks heat up at the way Stiles is looking at him. “Just out with coworkers.”

“Erica’s here?” Stiles’ grin widens. “I haven’t spoken to her in ages, come, we’ll go dance.” 

Before he knows what’s happening, Stiles is pulling him across the dancefloor. Derek is extremely aware of where Stiles’ hand is curled around his arm and he has to balance himself in order to not drop the drinks he’s holding. Stiles pauses and Derek guides them towards his betas. 

Erica and Stiles share an enthusiastic hug, waving their hands wildly with alcohol influenced movements. Derek repressed the flash of jealousy he feels - because it is ridiculous - and smiles as the two of them catch up in front of them. Isaac bumps his shoulder against him, a teasing look in his eyes, as he takes his drink from Derek’s hands.

More people join their group. Kira and a gorgeous redheaded girl Derek assumes is either Allison or Lydia as well as Liam, the young beta Derek tattooed earlier this month. And the high lamp smasher. Liam’s drunkenly showing off how his tattoo has healed, having taken off his shirt, and whilst Derek feels it’s a little much he does smile at the genuine excitement the younger guy still has about his tattoo. A sense of pride fills up Derek’s chest.

He ends up talking to the redhead, Lydia apparently, who keeps smirking at him for some reason. She has a quick tongue and their conversation is mostly filled with her asking him pointed questions about his romantic life and sexuality. Derek feels a little awkward, but when Stiles comes over and slaps her on her arm, angry eyebrows sent her way, he can’t help but grin.

The night furthers and their two packs are getting along well, most of them apparently having gone to high school together. Derek has had another few drinks and he can feel the alcohol getting to him.

Which is why he doesn’t stop Stiles when he pulls on his arms, making him dance with him. But to be fair, he’s not sure he would have stopped Stiles if he was sober.

They dance together, Derek aware of every moment their hands and bodies touch, and he swears Stiles’ scent is killing him. It’s like it’s even more present now, filling up Derek’s nose and making his wolf go crazy. A hand is on his arm, the movement brief but deliberate, and Derek looks up to find Stiles staring into his eyes. He arches an eyebrow, grinning. “You okay?” 

“Yeah,” Stiles stutters, cheeks reddening, “I just- your tattoos. They’re amazing.” 

His grin widens and Derek can’t help the pleased feeling in his stomach. “You think so?”

“I know so.” Stiles laughs, smiling widely as he moves his fingers to Derek’s right arm. Derek never wants to wash that piece of skin again. “That landscape you’ve got on there. It’s beautiful.”

“It’s the preserve.” Derek smiles proudly. He loves that tattoo. It’s his home. 

Stiles gives him a smile that’s all teeth. “And this one,” he moves his hand up higher on Derek’s arm, pointing to the side portrait of a girl, “it’s Laura right?” 

“Kiara actually. My other sister.” Derek smiles. It was another one of his favourite pieces. Laura and Cora are still salty about the fact he had done Kiara and not them, but the truth was he just loved that picture of Kiara. It had been taken on one of their only family holidays outside of the US. It was in the Italian mountains and Kiara had stood at the edge, arms high in one of her weird yoga poses, and smiling so brightly. They were laughing, slightly drunk on white wine, the sun warm on their faces. Derek had wanted that moment to last forever. So it was now forever on his arm.

Stiles’ eyes are filled with a genuine enjoyment, sparkling with upcoming laughter. He’d never looked more attractive.

His hand was still on Derek’s arm. Their scents were mingling slightly in the air and it smelled so good. It did things to Derek. He can’t help but let his eyes drop to Stiles’ lips, just for a second. When he looks back up Stiles eyes are wide, a different emotion visible in them, pupils blown. The air between them tenses and Stiles starts to move to the music, never taking his eyes off Derek.

A want fills up Derek’s stomach, the atmosphere becoming heated, and Stiles takes a hold of his hands - placing them on his own hips. Derek can feel his eyes widening and he steps forwards eagerly, wanting to get his body closer to that of Stiles’. He tightens his hold of Stiles’ hips, aligning their chests. 

Loud music fills his ears, but he still hears the soft gasp that falls from Stiles’ lips at the direct contact. Looking up into the wide, heated eyes of Stiles Derek wants nothing more than to close the distance between their lips. As they look at each other, he can see they’re both having the same internal debate. 

It’s then when Lydia comes in between them. Derek can’t help the initial annoyance he feels at her interrupting whatever was about to happen, but then he sees the seriousness in her eyes. Smells the worry in her scent.

She looks at Stiles, eyes big. “Jackson’s in trouble. We should go.”

Stiles just nods, seriousness and the same worry filling him up, and he sends Derek an apologetic look over his shoulder as he leaves with his pack.

Erica and Isaac send him confused frowns, but Derek doesn’t have any explanation to give them. He stares at the door Stiles left through, not sure of what he feels.

\--

His head bangs, a thud strangely similar to last night’s music rhythmically playing inside his brain, and he sighs. He hasn’t had a hangover in a long time. Thankfully he knows it’ll only last an hour, one of the perks of being a werewolf.

Rolling out of his bed, he heads downstairs and grabs a pack of orange juice out of the fridge. He takes a sip as he walks over to the cupboard to get himself a clean bowl.

“Gross,” Lucas sends him a glare, “we drink from that curtain too Derek.” 

Derek just sends him an unimpressed look in reply, not in the mood for Lucas’ bratty attitude this early in the morning, and he deliberately takes another sip from the pack of juice. Lucas rolls his eyes, murmuring something unkind words under his breath.

Cora, who’s also sitting at the table having breakfast, rolls her eyes as well. “Point proven Der. You’re a big alpha man.” 

Derek releases a grunt as he makes himself a bowl of cereal, needing the sugar right now, and he moves to sit down beside them at the table. Cora releases a snicker as she whiffs the air around him. “Smells like you had a good night.” 

Not finding that comment worthy of a reply he just rolls his eyes at his sister and takes out his phone. The little orange number next to his message inbox pops up and he taps to open it.

 **Stiles:** _srry about leaving last night_

 **Stiles:** _friend had some trouble. All good now tho_

Moving his thumb across his keypad, he smiles as the thought of him and Stiles last night fills up his mind. Quickly, he types out a reply.

 **Derek:** _No worries. I had a good time._

He doesn’t have to wait even a minute for an answer, Stiles replying immediately.

 **Stiles:** _Me too :)_

 **Stiles:** _wanna do something tonight? Maybe talk about it and stuff_

He can’t help the grin coming onto his lips.

 **Derek:** _How about tomorrow? Need to catch up on some work tonight_

 **Stiles:** _oh that works too_

 **Stiles:** _it’s a date ;)_

 **Derek:** _I’ll pick you up at 7_

“Do you see that Cora?” Lucas pretends to look shocked. “Is that an actual smile?” 

Cora snorts, going along with Lucas’ fake surprise. “I think it might be. He must be sick or something. We should get dad.” 

Derek sends them a pointed glare, lowering his phone as he takes a big bite of his cereal. “I think I’m starting to see why grandma doesn’t like you two.” 

“Oh please,” Cora exaggeratedly rolls her eyes, “grandma loves me. She always keeps extra cookies apart for me for when you all fuck off to bed early on christmas.” 

Lucas gasps audibily across from him and Derek can’t help but agree. Grandma Hale deliberately keeping her famous christmas cookies from him is the most betrayed he’s ever felt.

\--

The banging in his head finally died down a bit more than two hours later. He grimaces, realizing he might be getting old with how long that hangover had lasted. Upstairs he hears the faint voices coming from his mother’s office, the soundproofing making him unable to realize who is speaking or what is being said, but considering it’s saturday he knows it’s his mom and Deaton.

He’d actually been wanting to speak to Deaton again, ask him about the celtic harm symbol. He still didn’t like the thought of Stiles putting that one, it meant he could never defend himself against his pack. And you just never know when Stiles might need to.

Deaton leaves his mom’s office, walking down the stairs, and Derek gets up from where he was sitting on the couch. He jogs over towards the front door, catching Deaton just before he leaves. 

The dark-skinned man gives him a slight upturn of his eyebrows, one of the most expressonate movements Derek thinks he’s ever seen the guy make, and folds his arms over each other. “Derek. Anything I can help you with? I’ve got surgery in forty minutes.”

“Sorry, it won’t take long. I just had a question about the binding tattoo. Stiles says it should include a no harm symbol?” 

“Ah, yes.” Deaton nods knowingly. “Those are pretty standard.”

“Have you got them?” 

“I do.” Deaton looks up at him. “I understand your hesitation Derek, but the bond between an emissary and their pack is based on trust. This is a part of that. You have to respect his wish.”

Derek sighs, still not comfortable with the idea, but thanks Deaton as he heads out the door. 

\--

If he’d thought he was nervous for his last meeting with Stiles, at the diner, he’d been wrong. Which makes sense on one side, this time it was actually a date, but it also didn’t make sense, because this time he knew Stiles was also interested. At least, he hoped.

He’d decided to not stress about it too much this time. But then again, he had changed shirts six times already. Why was he like this?

When he walks down the stairs he finds Laura and Erica on their couch, wine glasses filled with rosé in their hands. The smirks they have on their faces are almost identical and he silently curses the day the two of them met. He makes an attempt to pass them by without having to talk to them, but he should have known that was not happening.

Erica actually leaps off the couch, miraculously not spilling anything out of her full glass of wine, and grabs his arm as she pulls him down between them on the pillows of the couch. “No way are we letting you go on a date without you talking to us first Der.” 

Derek looks up at the door, already planning an escape plan, as Laura swats his arm. “We mean it DerBear, you never tell us about anything in your love life. We finally have an in. So spill. You like this guy?” 

“And is that what you’re wearing?” Erica scrunches her nose.

Frowning, he glances down at the maroon V-neck he’s wearing. Laura laughs loudly, snorting into his shoulder. “Don’t say that Erica, you’ll make him change another four times.”

Derek rolls his eyes, even though Laura was right, and gives the both of them an exasperated look. They match his easily, forcibly staring at him until he talks. He sighs, accepting his defeat. “I like him yes.”

“Like?” Erica scoffs out a laugh. “You should have seen them yesterday Laura. They were all over each other. I thought I was watching some cheap gay soft porn.”

Annoyance comes over his features as Laura snickers loudly, taking a large sip of her wine. “God, I wish I was there to see that. But come on Der, tell us, where are you taking him?” 

“I thought we could go to Claudio’s.” 

Erica moves back on the couch, distaste visible in her face. “That expensive Italian place?” 

Derek frowns at her reaction. “What? It’s a nice place for a date.”

“I mean, yes.” Erica shrugs, staring at him like he’s an idiot. “But not for Stiles. The boy wore a batman shirt and flipflops to his graduation.” 

Laura snickers from next to them. “This Stiles sounds fun. Can’t I come with you Derek?”

He stands up at that, using that as his cue to leave. “No.”

The girls snort and profoundly call him names as he walks out the front door. He shakes his head. Why is his life filled with so many nosy women? 

As he steps into the Camaro, he can’t help but think about what Erica said. Maybe Claudio’s is a bit too fancy of a place to take Stiles. But where else could he take him? He’s not going to the diner again. 

He drives up to the address Stiles had texted him when he notices the police cruiser in front of the door. His eyes widen as he realizes where he recognized Stiles’ last name from, it was the same as the sheriff. Stepping out of the car, he has to swallow away his nerves as he walks up to the Stilinski house. It’s a nice house, built up from red bricks with white shutters on the windows. He can sense there’s magic around the house, wards of some sort.

Walking through them, he can hear Stiles’ heartbeat skip a beat from inside the house and he smiles, glad to know to he’s not alone in his nerves. As he goes to ring the bell, he hears Stiles hush out things to his father from behind the door. 

_“No dad you’re not doing your big bad police act. It’s our first date so there’s no need to even come up with me.”_

_“Stiles, he’s an alpha. I think I’m in my right to-”_

_“Oh my god dad it’s not the eighties anymore, I’m serious. Stay here or I’ll cut out meat from your diet again.”_

The door opens before he’d even rung the bell, Stiles rushing out as he quickly closes the door behind him. Derek can’t help the amused grin and Stiles looks embarrassed at it, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

Derek huffs out a laugh as they step off the porch. “I wasn’t saying anything.” 

“Your face was.” Stiles grins back at him as he slides into the passenger seat. “So where are we going?” 

“I thought about Claudio’s.” Derek pulls the Camaro into reverse, the fact that Stiles is in his car rushes excitement through his body, and grins at the sour tint in Stiles’ scent at the mention of the restaurant. “But Erica told me you’d hate that place, which your expression just now confirms.”

Stiles laughs, loud and bubbly, and looks at him apologetically. “I’m sorry. It’s not a bad place at all. Let’s just go there, you went through the trouble.” 

“No, I’d rather go somewhere you actually like. As long as it’s not the diner.”

Stiles gasps, mock offence on his face. “What do you have against the diner?”

They end up in the arcade ten minutes out of town. Derek never went to the place a lot, but apparently it was a Mccal pack regular. Neon signs hang on the wall, joined by vintage movie posters. This cues Stiles to start an intense star wars discussion. When Derek doesn’t agree that the Ewoks should be excused for the cannibal lifestyle, Stiles gasps and starts throwing out arguments about it being an integrated part of their culture and Derek laughs, shaking his head. He eyes the blue air hockey table next to them. “You know what, why don’t we fight this out on the field?” 

Stiles grins widely and an intense air hockey game follows. Derek can’t help the pleased feeling in his chest when he manages to score four goals in a row. Stiles shoots him a suspicious glare. “Are you using your wolfy powers?”

He actually hadn’t been, but Stiles doesn’t want to hear it. When Derek goes to strike his next move, his hand is suddenly stuck to the table. As in..he can’t lift it. Shocked, he looks up at Stiles. The other guy is smirking widely, waving his hand in the air as four pucks follow it straight into Derek’s goal. 

Unimpressed but also immensely impressed at the same time, Derek accepts his defeat. “Fine. You win. The Ewoks can eat whoever they want.”

Stiles does a little victory pump and swicks his hand briefly, releasing Derek from the table. His eyes are filled with sparkles of laughter and Derek finds himself smiling. His hand doesn’t feel weird at all and he touches it, wondering how far Stiles could take that magic. They head to the café part of the arcade and pick out a quiet booth in the corner, ordering themselves some international beers and some food.

Derek can’t keep his eyes off from Stiles. The boy is still slightly out of breath in front of him, his heartbeat a steady but eccentric rhythm, and his scent strong and happy. Their eyes meet and Stiles looks down at the table with a small smile. Derek’s chest tightens at the look of it.

“I brought the first sketch.” 

Stiles’ eyes widen with surprise and an excited smile comes onto his face, his hands up in the air as he makes grabby motions similar to how a child would. “Show me.”

Derek grins, feeling pleased, as he moves to get the paper out of his jacket. It’s only a first version, a draft so to speak, and only of the right shoulder. It’s got the arrow for Allison, the bands for Scott and the stylized, abstract fox figure for Kira. Stiles looks at him like he’s giving him a solution for all his problems and grabs the paper out of his hands.

The minute of absolute silence that follows is almost unbearable for Derek. Stiles’ eyes are focused on the design, his fingers tracing Derek’s drawing, his mouth slightly agape. Pressure rises in Derek’s chest. He really wants Stiles to like it. He wants it to be good for him. He wants to make him happy.

“It’s,” Stiles looks at him, eyes filled with an unreadable emotion, voice soft, “it’s beautiful.”

The words spark something inside Derek and all he can do is blush as he says thanks. 

“I love it.” Stiles is still fixated on the paper in front of him. “I really love it.” 

Derek shrugs, his wolf purring in content at the compliments. “It’s just a first version. I can change whatever you’d want me to.”

“I don’t want to change anything.” Stiles looks at him, voice breathless.

“Well, I should add in the no harm symbol.” 

Stiles’ eyebrows shoot upwards at his admission, a surprised smile on his face. “Yeah?”

“I talked to Deaton about it and I’m sorry for not understanding before. I still don’t like it, but if it’s important to you I’ll put it on.”

“You’d do that for me?”

Derek nods, eyes locking with Stiles’, and the air between them becomes almost electric as they look at each other. Stiles’ eyes are filled with an emotion Derek can’t read and Derek has to swallow at the intensity he feels. Every instinct within him wants to get closer. Wants to touch. Feel. 

Stiles seems to experience the same magnetic pull as he itches forwards in his seat. “Der-” 

They get interrupted by the waitress bringing over their dinner. She looks pleased to see Stiles, stopping to briefly chitchat with him, as she flicks her short hair over her shoulder. 

Derek sends him an amused look. “So do all waitresses in Beacon Hills know you?” 

Stiles laughs, shaking his head. “That’s just Caitlin. I went to school with her and like I said I come here a lot with the pack.” 

“Caitlin?” Derek stares after where the young girl walked off to the bar. “Is she a friend of Erica’s as well? I think I might be tattooing her.”

The look Stiles gives him is teasing. “Looks like someone’s in popular demand.” 

“Sometimes.” Derek shrugs, gathering his nerves, before he itches forwards in his seat. Placing his hand on Stiles’, he looks up into the other man’s eyes. “But there’s only one person I’m actually interested in.” 

A blush spreads over Stiles’ cheeks and he drops his eyes to the food in front of them, looking flustered. His scent spikes up with enjoyment though and Derek smiles, pleased. 

\--

When they walk out the arcade, the big double doors falling shut behind them, the sky has turned dark. There’s a cold breeze in the air and Derek looks up at the almost circular moon. 

Stiles follows his line of sight. “Almost a full moon huh?”

A smile comes onto his face. “Yeah. They’re good days.”

“Not totally my association,” Stiles makes a displeased face, “but sure.” 

Derek huffs out a laugh as they cross the carpark towards the camaro. “Once you get over the chaining people to the radiator phase, they’re actually pretty nice pack nights.” 

The laugh that bellows out of Stiles is a sound Derek would want to hear for the rest of his life. Stiles looks at him sheepish. “I was sixteen, don’t hold it over my head for too long.”

Derek grins, looking down at his feet briefly now that they’ve reached his car. He’s sad their date is ending. It had honestly been one of the best nights of this last year for him. Looking back up, he finds Stiles is already staring at him. His cheeks heat up. “I had a good time, Stiles.” 

A private smile comes onto Stiles’ features. “I didn’t realize it was already over.”

Derek heart beats irregularly inside his chest as Stiles takes a step forwards, closing the distance between them. His scent fills Derek’s nose and he growls at the want that rises in him. Stiles grins cockily, as if he knows what he’s doing to Derek. His eyes are daring and Derek recognizes the challenge for what it is. Stepping forwards, he presses their lips together without much grace.

Stiles releases a soft groan at the contact, making quick work of getting his hand up in Derek’s hair. Stiles’ lips are soft, a few chapped pieces on there Derek doesn’t mind ignoring, and when he feels them parting further he deepens their kiss. 

He can’t help the sounds he releases as their tongues come together, the feeling wet and slick and oh so good. Stiles’ hand is tangled up in his hair, pulling on the strands as if he was to eliminate any distance left between them. Derek moves his hand over Stiles’ back, halting at the lower curve. Stiles’ body feels solid underneath him and his wolf is going crazy inside him. Finally. Their scents mingle in the air around him and it’s quickly becoming his new favourite smell.

Stiles’ other hand is on his side and Stiles squeezes down roughly whilst he pushes his tongue further into Derek’s mouth. Derek groans, needing to take a step backwards before he shifts right here in the parking lot. Stiles releases a soft whine when their lips disconnect and he looks up at Derek with blazed eyes. 

“I’m sorry,” Derek manages to breath out, his teeth already having shifted, “I just-”

“Don’t ever apologize for kissing me again.” Stiles grins, his lips slightly swollen. “Or for wolfing out. It’s hot.” 

Those words go straight to his groan and he grunts as he’s now fighting back both his shift and his upcoming erection.

Stiles’ hands go up to his shifted ears, running his finger across them tentatively. Whilst it feels nice Derek forces himself to breath in and out deeply, regaining control. He feels a little flustered when he looks back up at Stiles with human features. “Sorry. It’s just..something about you just makes me-” 

“I know,” Stiles nods, eyes serious, “I feel it too.”

\--

It’s half eleven the next morning when his phone rings, the obnoxious tunes of Britney Spears’ Toxic telling him it’s Erica without even having to look on the screen. He picks up, pressing the phone to his ear as he finishes tracing another celtic symbol in his sketchbook. “Hello?” 

“Derek,” Erica’s voice is snappy, annoyance hearable within it, “where are you?” 

His brows furrow. “At home. Why?” 

The sigh that fills up his ear is loud and irritated and he can almost hear Erica roll her eyes on the other side of the line. “Because I’m at the shop with my very dear friend Caitlin. You know, the human girl who specifically made time for you to tattoo her? So you could practice human tattooing again?” 

Oh shit. He rushes up from behind his desk, almost spilling his coffee within the process, and grabs his leather jacket as he runs down the stairs. “I’m sorry Erica, I completely forgot. I’m heading over right now. Ten minutes tops.” 

“At least tell me you actually made a stencil?” Erica still sounds pissed.

“Of course I did, it’s on my desk. You can show her already if you like. I’m getting in the car right now.” 

So it took twelve minutes instead of ten, which Erica pointed out sternly, before he walked into the shop. Apologies flood from his mouth but Caitlin just releases a laugh, not seemingly bothered. 

“You’re way too nice Caitlin,” Erica huffs out, ploffing down into the armchair next to Derek’s station, “at least make him sweat a little.” 

Caitlin just shrugs, making herself comfortable on the leather tattoo chair. “He’s giving me this tattoo for half the price of all the other shops, no way am I complaining about a ten minute delay. Plus he’s Stiles’ boyfriend, so that cuts him a little slack too.”

Derek can feel his cheeks reddening at that last sentence and Erica’s frown is quickly replaced by a teasing smirk. 

“Oh he wishes he was Stiles’ boyfriend alright.” she says as she reaches for the mini fridge next to her and grabs herself a wolfsbane infused beer. She hands Caitlin a regular one and Derek rolls his eyes, knowing he wasn’t getting one because Erica was still pissy. Not that he’d ever drink whilst tattooing, obviously.

Even though he’d forgotten it was happening today, he was actually a bit nervous about tattooing a human again. He had to be careful with the amount of pressure he was applying, as the humans do experience it as pain, and there would probably be blood. The blood could kind of ruin his vision on the progress of the tattoo as it could mix with the ink. So he had baby wipes ready and he pulled on gloves as he applied the stencil. 

Caitlin had just wanted a small tattoo. The cross, heart and anchor symbols on her left ankle. One of those typical Cali girl tattoos. Not that he would ever say that outloud to her. 

When he sets to work, he notices he has to get used to the feeling of a tattoo gun again. They’re thinner than the blow torches he uses daily, but he actually finds that to be pleasant to work with. The lines come onto her skin quickly and whilst he has to go over them twice, he finds the piece is all finished within twenty minutes. There was some blood, but nothing he couldn’t deal with.

Whilst he knew Stiles’ piece would be bigger and probably give him a bit more trouble, he felt confident in his ability to pull it off now. Caitlin gives him a smile and a quick hug as she leaves the shop, telling Erica she’ll see her tomorrow, and Derek releases the breath he’d been holding.

Then Erica swats him across the head, still holding onto her bottle of beer, as she gives him a disbelieving look. “Never doing you a favour again, dickhead.” 

He rolls his eyes at her dramatics, ruffling his hand through her curls - which earns him another slap. “Come on, let’s go pick up Isaac and head to the preserve.” 

“Should we pick up your boyfriend too?”

\--

His muscles were tightening, the pull of the full moon already affecting him, as he drove the three of them home. He knew his dad was slaving away in the kitchen right now, always cooking big nutritious meals on full moon nights. Werewolves needed the calories before a run. It’s one of their traditions to have a big dinner together before they all head out to the preserve. It’s why full moons are one of his favourite nights of the month. Family, pack and good food.

The two gigantic pans of paella his dad had made were nearly finished. The smell of seafood is still in the air, creating a pleasant mixture with the smells of pack. Cora is laughing across from him, her head leaning on Lucas’ shoulder, and Kiara is rolling her eyes at something Isaac is saying. Peter is lecturing Erica about something and she argues back fiercely, eyes stuck in what looks like a permanent eye roll. Derek smiles, the sight of family and the feeling of the moon pulling out his instincts filling him up with happiness. 

He looks over at Laura, who in contrast to the others is looking grumpy and pissed off. He arches an inquiring eyebrow at her. She gives him a dead stare. “I’m on my period.”

All women at the table release an understanding whine and his mom reaches out to squeeze Laura’s shoulder. “Aw honey at the full moon? That’s unlucky.” 

Considering they were a pretty female filled family, Derek was used to the period talk. When other guys made a big deal of it, finding it gross, he never understood. It’s just a part of female life.

“Thank god we don’t bleed in wolf form.” Erica huffs out, sending Laura a private smile.

Okay yeah. That was a little gross.

Peter seems to agree, clearing his throat as he stands up. “Think that means it’s time to run.”

They all stand up, excitement rushing through them at getting to let their wolf sides out, and their dad sends them a wide grin. “Yeah yeah you wolves go and have fun. Lucas and I will clean up as usual. Love this family dynamic we have going on.” 

Derek rolls his eyes at his father, knowing he was kidding, and he can see his mother doing the same before planting a wet, smacking kiss on her mate’s lips. Now, that is gross. He’d rather see a bleeding wolf.

The preserve is calling him, the pine needles tickling underneath his feet as he takes off running. He hears howls behind him and Cora passes him by in her beta shift. She was always the fastest out of them all. Only his mother’s full shift could keep up with her. He can sense the rest of the pack behind him and his wolf howls out in happiness.

Twigs snap underneath him and the preserve is lit by the white light coming from the completely circular moon. It’s a good night and Derek revels in the feeling of his shift coming forwards. A feeling of freedom overtakes him and he howls loudly as he feels the bones in back cracking.

Wait. Why are they cracking?

He groans, feeling his knees give out as he falls onto the forest floor. He tries to stand up, but all his muscles feel like they’re on fire. They’re burning and his bones seem to be snapping. He hears Laura’s concerned whine behind him and then his mother’s black wolf is in front of him, licking his face in a means of comfort.

His entire body hurts and his eyes widen when he feels his hand make place for claws. Actual claws. With fur. In fact, his entire body is now covered in fur. He’s going into full shift. Holy fuck.

Once the pain has faded excitement overtakes him. He’s in his full shift. Actually in his full shift. Even though it was a Hale trait, his mom was currently the only one able to do it. Even with him having been an alpha for three years now, it hadn’t actually happened. 

He’s slightly confused as to why it happened now of all times, but he feels more powerful than he’s ever felt. It’s like all of his senses have clicked fully into place. His eyes see more clearly, he can hear twigs snapping from way further than he usually can and Erica’s happy yips seem clearer than before and his nose..he smells everything now. His sense of smell was pretty good before, but now he just smells everything. He smells his pack’s joy and amazement, he smells the worry still on Laura even though those pheromones are ebbing away and he smells..whiskey. He smells pears. He smells caramel.

He smells Stiles.

Without even thinking, he lets his legs follow the scent. He’s faster now, his new form letting him run across the forest with ease and a strength unknown to him before. All he can think about is Stiles. His scent is filling up his nose. It drives him crazy. He wants to be there, with Stiles. Running out here, with Stiles.

He’s running up to the two story Stilinski house, white shutters in front of the windows, and he howls at smelling Stiles is inside it. He wants to get in there. Wants to lay down on top of Stiles and breathe in as much of that smell as he can.

Then he smells an alpha approaching from his right and he growls at the for him unfamiliar scent. The alpha comes running out, teeth and claws bared, as he goes to stand protectively in front of the house. Flashing his eyes red at Derek. Without thinking, he flashes his own alpha eyes back. They stare at each other for a tense second, Derek's mind needing it to catch up to the fact that this alpha is probably Scott. He realizes how weird it looks for him to show up here, on Scott’s territory, near Scott’s future emissary.

In fact, why was he here?

His mother comes running onto the clearing then, giving him her angry wolves eyes as she passes him by, before nodding respectfully towards Scott. Scott eyes widen and he lowers his claws, returning Talia’s greeting with understanding in his eyes.

Talia bites him on his nose, reprimanding him, and Derek huffs out an annoyed breath before following her back into the woods, taking one last glance up at the house.

\--

Bright morning light is peeking through the curtains and he groans softly, not wanting for it to be morning yet. When he hears the unmistakable tune of birds joining in on the fun, for some reason sounding sharper and higher than usual, he quietly attempts to get himself out of the mess of limbs that is their full moon puppy pile without waking anyone. Gently, he lifts Isaac’s head off of his chest and places it on Kiara’s shoulder instead. 

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he sounders into the kitchen. Not surprised to find his mother and Peter already sitting at the table, reading the paper whilst they pick pieces of cut up fruit off a plate. They share a meaningful look as he comes in and Derek frowns. “Morning.” 

“Morning sweetheart,” his mother’s smile is warm, but he can see a cautiousness in it as well, “how’d you sleep?”

“Fine.” He can’t help his rough tone, confused about the way his mother is acting.

Peter’s staring at him with a weird intensity. Letting his eyes flick up and down Derek’s body. “So full shit huh, little nephew?”

Derek nods, memories of last night coming back to him and he feels a blush coming onto his cheeks as he recalled chasing after Stiles’ scent and facing off against Scott. Not the way he’d wanted to meet the other alpha.

“Apparently.” He grunts out as he opens the fridge, staring at his options for breakfast.

“We do need to talk about last night honey,” his mother’s voice is soft and careful, “it was all unexpected as I know but there are things-”

“Mom,” he interrupts her as he shuts the fridge door, having grabbed himself some yogurt, “can we talk about this later? I have to meet Stiles in an hour to discuss some things.”

Peter’s eyebrows rise as a smirk comes onto his lips. “Oh do you hear that Talia? He’s meeting _Stiles_ in an hour.” 

Derek frowns, not liking the way Peter put emphasis on Stiles’ name, and his mother is giving her brother a reprimanding look from across the table. 

She smiles up at him then, a warmness in her expression. “That’s fine Derek. We can discuss it tonight.” 

\--

He’s been sitting in his car for ten minutes now, even if he’s reached the Stilinski household. It feels silly, but with what happened last night he’s embarrassed to go inside. He’s sure Scott told Stiles about him hanging out in front of Stiles’ house and if that doesn’t sound like a creepy obsessed stalker, he doesn’t know what does. 

Even though Stiles had texted him this morning and nothing seemed wrong in that text, Derek knows that doesn’t have to mean anything. Stiles could still think he was creepy. Which to be fair, he had been last night. He can’t explain his reaction either, not even with having thought about it all morning. He’d just smelled Stiles’ scent and..followed it. On instinct.

Sighing, he decides it’s time to get out of the car and just face whatever’s about to happen. He can only hear one heartbeat inside the house, meaning the sheriff was out today.

The wards, though he can sense that they’re there, don’t register on his skin and he goes to knock on the door, even though Stiles already knew he was there.

Stiles swings open the door, grinning happily, and moves aside to let Derek pass. Feeling slightly awkward, Derek kicks off his shoes in silence. Thankfully Stiles starts talking for him.

“My dad’s out so I got us some lunch, you a fan of pumpkin? Cause I made pumpkin soup.”

Derek just grunts in confirmation, following Stiles into the living room. It’s a pretty big open space, though not as big as the Hale living room - which makes sense considering it’s just Stiles and his dad here. There are family pictures on the wall by the tv and Derek smiles at the sight of a younger Stiles. He was a cute kid, buzzcut and all. A bit more babyfat on his cheeks than now. A sweet looking woman is in some of the pictures too and Derek gathers it’s Stiles’ mother by the endearing look the two share.

Stiles is in the kitchen which is connected to the living room, the only separation between them the vertically placed dinner table. He hums a melody to himself as he pours soup into two bowls. Derek sheepishly walks in behind him. “Anything I can do?” 

“Not really.” Stiles smiles kindly but then his mouth drops open in realization. “Oh no wait. You can cut up some bread. It’s in the bottom drawer under the fridge.”

Nodding, Derek moves to take out a loaf of what smells like sourdough and makes quick work of cutting two thick slices from it. Stiles walks the bowls over to the couch, placing them on the small wooden table in front of it. 

As they sit down, Derek just can’t take his own internal debate anymore. “Stiles, about last night-” 

Stiles huffs out a breath, waving it away with his hand. “Don’t even mention it Derek. Scott told me what happened but he’s a bit of an overprotective dramaqueen. I know the full moon can make you guys act crazy, so no worries there alright?” 

“Sure.” Derek stammers out, not being able to hide his surprise at how casually Stiles was taking it. 

“I’d rather talk about our date,” Stiles grins, the redness on his cheeks revealing that the confidence in his body language isn’t completely sincere, “I had a great time.”

Derek nods, releasing a relieved breath, and smiles genuinely at Stiles. “I did too.” 

“So what was it again that you wanted to do today?” Stiles asks, quickly correcting himself when he realizes how that sounded. “Not that you’re not welcome to just hang out, quite the opposite in fact.” 

Derek grins, that admission pleasing him, as he watches Stiles take a sip of his soup. Realizing he hadn’t even touched his bowl, he edges forwards and lets the liquid fill his mouth. And damn. That was good. Ridiculously good. Subtle tastes of pumpkin and a hint of chive. He moans around his spoon, looking up at Stiles. “You made this?” 

“Don’t believe me?” Stiles laughs. “I’m a pretty decent chef. Been cooking for my dad for years.”

“It’s really nice, Stiles.” 

Stiles ducks his head shyly. “Thanks.” 

“But yeah,” Derek continues, realizing he hadn’t answered Stiles’ previous question, “I wanted to do some freehanding on you today. To kind of get a feel for the placement.” 

“Freehanding?” Stiles looks at him with interest.

“Just me drawing on your skin basically.” Derek huffs out a breath, feeling silly explaining it like this.

“Oh cool!” Stiles grins widely. “I’m up for that, then I can actually see what it’d look like.”

Derek tries to ignore the flip his heart made at smelling the joy in Stiles’ scent and knowing he was the cause for it. By the way he’s smiling, he’s not sure if he’s succeeding. They finish their soups, their knees touching each other coyly, and he can feel both of them are unsure of how to behave around each other currently.

Stiles takes the now empty bowls back to the kitchen, dumping them in the sink to wash off later. His eyes are curious as he looks at Derek. “So? Freehanding?” 

Derek nods, walking towards his bag and getting out some non-permanent markers. 

“Should I sit down?” Stiles asks as he speeds through the room, halting at the couch. “I’ll sit down.” 

Releasing a laugh Derek sits down next to him on the couch, folding his knees in such a way he has a direct view of Stiles’ arm. His still clothed arm. “Umh,” his cheeks redden, “you’ll have to take off the shirt, Stiles.” 

“Oh right, of course,” Stiles faces him, a shit eating grin making its way onto his features as he winks, “all you had to do was ask.”

He’s sure his cheeks are a bright red right now and he quickly lowers his eyes as Stiles moves to take off his shirt. Clients are bare chested around him all the time considering his line of work, but it’s not usually such a charged moment. Probably because his clients aren’t people he would usually want to see naked. Licking his lips nervously, he looks back up.

His eyes gloss over as he takes in the lean but muscular body in front of him. Stiles might look lanky on the outside, but he’s definitely filled out underneath the baggy shirts. He casts an appreciative glance over the body in front of him when his eyes spot the series of scars higher up on Stiles’ chest.

A sneer comes onto his face, an unexplainably intense anger filling up his insides, as he moves his fingers to touch the claw marks on Stiles. Stiles shudders under his touch and when Derek looks up Stiles is staring right at him. Eyes ablaze.

“What happened?” Derek manages to grunt out. He can feel his claws digging into the palm of his now curled up hands, anger at whoever did this overtaking him.

Stiles shrugs, not breaking eye contact as he does so. “I told you. It was a rough first few years.”

“You didn’t tell me it was this rough,” Derek looks into Stiles’ eyes, the intamicity of their position not lost on him, “where did this happen? It wasn’t here or else I would have known about it.”

Stiles releases a sharp breath, pupils widening at Derek’s fingers on his chest, as he goes to explain. “Scott had gotten in trouble with a witch up in Nevada. I had just gotten my spark powers so we drove up to try and dismantle the situation. Except the witch had brought out her pack as well and they weren’t as up for diplomacy as we were.”

“They attacked a human?” Derek can’t help the distaste in his voice. There weren’t any official rules for pack wars, but it was common courtesy to leave the human members out of it.

“I’m not a human though.” Stiles sends him a small smile, lifting up his hand and twirling it around. Suddenly half the furniture is floating within the room around them and Derek’s eyes widen with amazement. He did sometimes forget about Stiles’ being so accomplished in his magic, considering Stiles was not one to brag about it.

He swallows, looking back at Stiles - who lowers his hand, taking the furniture down with him. Derek moves his fingers away from the claw marks up to a healed up bullet hole on Stiles’ back. Stiles releases a gasp under him. He lets his eyes ask the question. 

Stiles shrugs, his tongue darting out of his mouth to lick his lips. “That’s from the Argent situation two years ago.”

Right. Derek remembered that. He’d been at a tattoo convention the weekend when Gerard showed up in town. His mother had some not so pleasant history with the Argents, but Chris had been living peacefully in the territory for years. Neither of them had been happy to see his father and his goons return. His pack had driven Gerard out of town, a combined effort with Chris and the Mccall pack. Including Stiles apparently. 

As he looks back up at Stiles he finds the other man to be staring at his lips. Derek moves his hand away from the scar and up to Stiles’ neck, letting his fingers rest there for a moment, and Stiles moves into the touch. A growl rumbles inside his throat and Stiles gasps softly as he dives forwards, pressing their lips together.

It’s a different kiss compared to their last. Softer. Gentle. Intimate. Derek’s hand moves to cup Stiles’ cheek, who leans contently into his palm. Their tongues are careful, slowly exploring each other’s mouth, and when they pull back they share an intimate smile. His wolf’s purrs are satisfied inside him.

Derek licks his lips, not saying anything as he moves Stiles back to their original position. He presses the marker on his shoulder, Stiles flinching briefly because the tip is cold, and Derek goes to work. Letting his marker flow across Stiles’ skin, inspired by the way he can still taste Stiles on his tongue, he draws out the first celtic symbol. 

There’s a tension in the air between them, but the good kind. Neither of them speaking as Derek sketches out his idea on Stiles’ arm. The lines flow out of him smoothly and as he adds in the symbols for Stiles’ pack, he can’t help the sinking feeling that comes over him. He can’t really explain it. It’s the same feeling he gets whenever he thinks too hard about Stiles binding himself to a different pack. It feels like a punch to his gut.

Shaking his head, he tries to suppress the feeling and continue his drawing of Scott’s bands He’s drawn it at least eight times before and it was never a problem. But that was on paper and paper didn’t mean anything. Swallowing, he realizes that actually putting another pack’s mark on Stiles’ skin is what is upsetting him. 

It’s upsetting his wolf, because all his wolf wants is to put himself on Stiles’ skin instead of this other alpha. He feels stupid that he hadn’t realized that was the problem before. He’d just explained the bad feeling out of concern, but now he could see his reasoning was a lot more egoistic than that. 

He tries to control his features, not wanting Stiles to notice his confliction, and ends up frowning. The facial expression he’s most advanced in according to Laura.

But of course, things wouldn’t be that easy. Stiles places his hand on Derek’s shoulder, a confused and slightly concerned look in his eyes. “You okay, Derek?” 

“Fine,” he tries to force a smile onto his lips, “just need to focus for this bit.” 

Stiles nods, but looks like he doesn’t fully believe him. Derek ignores it, going back to finishing off the mock tattoo. Pretending it’s someone else than Stiles helps a little, at least. But he wonders if he’s struggling this much with just a marker, how would he ever be able to permanently tattoo this on Stiles? 

Maybe he should think twice about going through with this.

Once he’s done, he plasters another smile onto his lips and points Stiles towards the mirror. The bright smile Stiles gets onto his lips at seeing the tattoo shines through in his eyes. Stiles releases a breathless laugh, genuine happiness filling up his scent, and Derek realizes how selfish his earlier thoughts were. 

This was what Stiles wanted. Whatever Derek was feeling about it was not important here.

\--

When he walks back into the house, feeling slightly defeated, he finds himself walking straight into his mother. She was standing patiently in the hallway, seemingly having smelled him coming up and wanting to speak with him right away.

Her smile is kind. “Will you follow me Derek? We have a lot to discuss.”

“Mom,” he hates how much his voice sounds like a whine, “I’ve kind of had a rough day. I’m sure my full shift comes with some things to discuss, but I’m sure we can do that tomorrow as well.” 

His mother steps forwards, placing her hand on his shoulder supportively. “I’m afraid it can’t wait sweetheart.” 

Frowning, he follows his mother into her office. There his frown deepens as his dad, Peter and Deaton are already sitting around the table. Talia takes her usual place at the centre of it. Derek doesn’t sit down, choosing to lean against the doorpost instead. The sight of Deaton is annoying him, as it’s just a reminder of the realization he had this afternoon. The realization that Stiles is binding himself to another pack at his hands. Which is for some reason playing with his instincts.

He motions to the older man, who’s staring at him cryptically. “Why’s Deaton here?” 

His mother gives him a sharp look, eyes flashing a warning red, clearly not liking the tone he’s using. “Because his insights might be useful with this discussion. Now please close the door Derek, unless you want your sisters to enjoy the details of this conversation.” 

Grunting, he closes the door and he goes to sit down in the empty chair in front of him. 

His mom goes back to her usual expression, though he sees a softness in her eyes that’s not usually there. It makes him feel nervous about what exactly is going on here. “Derek. Your dad and I have some things we have noticed lately and we didn’t know if or when we should tell you, but then last night happened and..”

She stops herself, biting down on her lip in doubt, and Derek is sure he’s never frowned as hard as he’s currently doing. What the hell is going on? Peter huffs out a laugh, clearly amused by the situation. Talia shoots him an annoyed glare like only siblings can. 

His dad uses that moment to sigh, not impressed at the display in front of him, and shifts in his seat as he looks at his only son. “Sorry Der, we started this off wrong. It’s just a big conversation to have and whilst we all mean well, I can see that we’re freaking you out a little right now. Just know that we’re here to support you.” 

“Ah so that explains why Peter’s here,” Derek can’t help the roll of his eyes, “he’s always my biggest source of support.”

“You wound me nephew.” Peter places his hand on his heart as if Derek’s words actually hurt him, but it doesn’t take long for the pleased smirk to come back to his features. “Now lose the attitude and listen to your parents.”

“Derek,” his mother started off tentatively, placing her hands on the table, “do you remember when I got into my full shift?”

Derek nods. “It was before you were an alpha.”

His mother nods, a small smile coming over her features. “Yes, grandad was still the alpha back then. The full shift is something that runs in our family, but it usually only comes out when our wolf is completely settled.”

The frown that overtakes him must look funny because Peter’s grin expands. He’s just confused as to why his mother is explaining this again. He knows how it works. Laura, Kiara and him used to beg mom to tell them how it worked. They spend nights listening to his mother explaining the story of her first full turn. How she’d met dad, her wolf settling inside her chest, and she was able to shift fully after that.

“And you remember why my wolf settled?” His mother's eyes have a warmness inside them.

“Because you met dad. Your mate.”

The entire room is staring at him carefully now, small smiles, as they wait for him to figure it out. Even Peter looks genuinely pleased, the teasing out off his grin.

Wait. His eyes shoot up towards Deaton, who just nods stoically, and he can feel his mouth falling open at the realization. “You mean..”

“Yes, honey.” His mom’s smile is radiant now. 

“Stiles is my mate?” 

\--

He doesn’t remember the exact conversation that followed, overtaken by feelings of confusion, and he listens to the slow but steady purr coming from the coffee machine as it whips together a cappuccino for him.

It’s the middle of the night, the only light in the kitchen coming from a single stream of pale moonlight entering through the window. Its source, now backing down from being full, feels like a mocking reminder. 

Stiles was his mate.

It explained everything. It explained why when he first saw Stiles, he was immediately attracted to the guy, wanting to get closer and up in that scent. It explained why somehow his wolf had risen to the surface lately, more active than ever before. It explained his reaction whenever he was near Stiles. His need and want for him. It explained his full shift and his need to run towards Stiles. 

It explained why the thought of the binding felt so heavy in his chest.

The door opens behind him and he turns to see his dad entering, huddling himself in the woolen vest he’s wearing. An understanding smile is on his lips as he flicks on the kitchen light. “Can’t sleep?”

“No.” Derek releases a grunt, getting his now finished coffee out from under the machine. 

“Coffee’s not going to help that,” his dad goes to lean against the counter, “but it does help with the shock.” 

Derek sighs as he sits down on the table. “It’s just complicated.” 

“Yes, it is.” His dad shrugs. “Though it is not as complicated as it was for me. At least Stiles knows what a werewolf even is.” 

Derek huffs out a breath. That is true, mom and dad had met five years before werewolves became common knowledge. A scowl comes over his face as he realizes that his issue with Stiles is a different one. “Except he’s already in a pack.” 

“Yeah,” his dad frowns slightly, “even though I’ve been in this werewolf pack business for a while now, these are dynamics I never really understood. I just don’t see why a person can’t just be in more packs than one. This whole you Erica and Isaac thing already went above my head. This seems even more complicated.” 

Derek can’t really do much more than nod, not knowing what to say. Werewolves mate for life and now he knew Stiles was the one, there was no going back. 

His dad walks over, sitting down next to him on the table, and places his hand on Derek’s knee. “It’s like Deaton said, we’ll have to meet with alpha Mccall and explain. Things will change, but not necessarily for worse.”

“I can’t believe Deaton knew and didn’t say anything.” 

“He didn’t know,” his dad says, “he had a suspicion. He could feel there was a connection between Stiles and the Hale pack. He didn’t know what or where it was though. And he only commented on it once Stiles was wanting to make a binding.” 

“Commented on it? All he said to Stiles was that this wasn’t the binding he should be making.”

His dad huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, Deaton’s a bit of a prick isn’t he?”

Derek laughs at that and his dad squeezes his knee supportively. For a minute it all seems okay.

\--

The burner is hot in his hands as he works on the pin-up tattoo on the calf of the biggest dickhead he’s ever met. The guy had walked in, taking an extensive look at Erica’s chest, and actually told Erica she had a nice rack as he walked through to Derek. 

Derek had to bite his lip in order to not lash out and he’d thought about purposely fucking up this tattoo with every line he set. Unfortunately, he did want to uphold his shop’s reputation.

“All done.” Derek steps back from the chair, already hating the pleased cocky grin on his client’s face as he checks out his new ink in the mirror.

He forcefully guides the way too confident beta out of the shop, not wanting him to be able to say anything else to Erica, and Erica spits out an ingenuine laugh once he’s gone. “Can you believe that guy hates on girls’ half shifts? With a face like that, he’d be lucky if even a feral wolf would want him.”

Derek huffs out a laugh, finding he agrees, as he sits back down at his desk. The design of Stiles’ tattoo is staring up at him from his sketchbook and Derek sighs. He hadn’t really spoken to Stiles since he found out they were apparently mates. Derek didn’t know what to say. How do you break that to someone? It was the kind of thing that changed everything. And Derek had actually been liking the way things had been going. They had just started to get to know each other.

Deciding he probably does talk to Stiles, he gets out his phone.

 **Derek:** _hey, I need to tell you something_

Stiles’ reply is immediate, making Derek think the guy is on his phone constantly.

 **Stiles:** _me too!!! I have good news_

 **Stiles:** _this woman came up to me in the coffee shop. She’s a druid. She says she can help us with the tattoo :D_

 **Derek:** _really? How did that happen?_

 **Stiles:** _well she just came up to me, said she could sense my magic_

Derek frowns, finding the story odd. Since when can druids tell other people’s magic? He opens up his contact list, letting his thumb slide over the dial button next to Stiles’ name.

“Derek!” Stiles’ voice sounds excited. “Kind of crazy right? Such a weird coincidence.”

“Very coincidental yeah.” Derek can’t help being wary. “What happened exactly?”

“She literally just left. I was just here working on my essay when she came up to me. It was kind of odd but she was super sweet. Said she could sense I was magic and that one of her powers is emotional stuff so she could tell I was struggling with myself.” 

Derek can feel a scowl coming onto his face. “Seems random.”

“I know, it was a bit weird to be fair.” Stiles’ voice regains a bit more seriousness. “But she seemed nice enough. Apparently she just moved into town. Her binding tattoo was so cool Derek, it looked awesome, it had all these vines twirling together and-” 

“Wait? Vines?” Derek’s eyebrows shoot upwards. “Stiles, what was her name?”

“Jennifer something.” He can just hear Stiles’ frown. “Why?” 

“Stiles.” Derek jumps up from his desk, not trusting this one bit. “Where are you? Is she still there? Did she do anything else?” 

“I’m still at the coffee shop. What’s going on Derek?” 

He pulls on his leather jacket, running past Isaac - who gives him a concerned one over, and walks out the shop. “I’ll be there in five.” 

The coffee shop is just down in the next street and Derek tries not to look like a maniac as he jogs over. He didn’t trust this one bit. Jennifer had acted off when she was in his shop. He remembers the way she reacted to Stiles’ spark status and now she’s miraculously ran into him. Something about that bothers him.

Stiles is sitting at the same table as last time when he walks in. His eyes shoot towards the door as Derek walks in, looking confused. “What’s this about Derek?” 

His nostrils flare angrily as he smells her all over him. “She scented you.”

“Umh,” Stiles scrunches his nose, “she touched my arm for a bit, yeah.”

Derek sits down, shoulders rigid, as he looks up at Stiles. “Tell me what else she did.”

Stiles’ face crumbles up into a frown. “How about you tell me what’s going on first?”

“It’s just,” Derek sighs, realizing how confusing he’s being, “I tattooed her about two weeks ago. She seemed very interested in the fact I was going to do your binding tattoo.” 

Stiles looks at him blankly. ”Okay yeah, that’s a little weird. But you know, coincidences happen.”

“I just find it suspicious.” Derek bites down on his lip. “She hears it from me and then suddenly finds you.” 

“It is a little suspicious, I agree.” Stiles nods, a seriousness working its way into his features, “But maybe she does just want to help and she just got a bit too excited? Forgetting about normal social boundaries?"

“I don’t know,” Derek huffs out a deep breath, placing his hands on the table, “I find it a little too convenient for my liking.”

“And I,” Stiles’ eyes gloss over teasingly, a small grin coming to his lips as he places his hand on top of Derek’s on the table, “find your protective alpha feelings very adorable.” 

Derek huffs out a laugh and looks up at the amused sparkle in Stiles’ eyes. He loves how Stiles can always make him laugh. How with just a couple of words, he calms the worry that was present inside of Derek. He realizes that is probably a part of the mate bond. The ease with which everything just feels right between them. As he looks into Stiles’ eyes, he realizes that his wolf is calm and happy. He realizes that Stiles is indeed his mate. 

Stiles gives him an amused rise of his eyebrows.”What are you thinking about?”

Derek swallows, realizing he doesn’t want to ruin the easy, pleasant atmosphere between them. He should keep the mate stuff to himself for now. He smiles. “Nothing. I should probably get back to work, I have another client later.”

“Oh yeah, I should probably get back to my essay too,” Stiles is quick as he moves in his seat, glancing up at Derek through his eyelashes, “but I’m free after. If you..you know you’d want to get dinner.”

“I’d love to.” 

\--

Whilst Derek never had a strong urge to leave Beacon Hills, sometimes he wishes the town was just a tad bit bigger. 

“Stiles, we’re not going to the diner.” 

Stiles pouts comically. “But they have the best fries.” 

“I’m sure there are other places with fries.” Derek grins as he pulls the Camaro into reverse. “But I think I have another idea.”

They swing by the Vietnamese take out place, ordering some spring rolls, fried rice and a box of crispy Peking Duck. Derek drives them into the preserve, going as far as the car can go. Stiles looks at him curiously once they step out of it. “Are you finally telling me where you’re taking me then?”

“You can see it for yourself in just a couple of minutes.” 

Stiles mutters some complaints about Derek being a secretive prick as they walk up the forest road. Derek grins to himself. The ground is uneven underneath them and the evening is starting to fall, the setting sun painting the sky a light orange. The trees are starting to thin out next to them as they reach the lookout point on the edge of the hill. 

It’s one of Derek’s favourite spots in the preserve, as it views down onto the rest of the woods. The shining lights of the houses of the next town over are visible behind the treetops. Cora had been the one to discover the place, going there whenever she needed some peace of mind. The day their granddad died she’d taken him with her and they’d drank cans of beer as they stared over the top of the trees below them.

“This is your tattoo.” Stiles comes to stand beside him. “It’s beautiful.” 

Derek nods, moving to climb onto the flat faced rock to their right. Stiles follows him, needing some assistance with getting up there, and they sit down together. The take out boxes are warm in his hands, some steam escaping as he opens them up. Fuck. He forgot to bring forks.

Stiles laughs at the face he makes and pulls out his bag. “You’re lucky I bring food to my dad so often, I probably have a fork in here.”

They eat as they stare over the view. They talk about Derek’s work, what kind of tattoos he likes to do the most and his family. They chat about Stiles’ dad, what he wants to do after college and Stiles’ pack.

“So you have a pack with a true alpha, a kitsune, a banshee, a half lizard wolf and a spark?”

“And an ex-huntress.” Stiles grins, pride of his pack visible in his expression.

Derek feels impressed. It was extremely unique for a pack to have more non-wolf members than actual wolves. He knew from his mother that the Mccall pack had some rare supernaturals in it, but he hadn’t realized just how much. It’s a big contrast to the Hale pack, which is wolves and humans only. And well..Deaton. 

“So what symbol did you want me to use for lizard guy?”

Stiles chuckles. “I haven’t decided. Jackson’s a bit of a difficult one. Maybe a porsche. Or no wait..a police van.” Stiles grins as if it’s the funniest thing he could have said.

Derek nods to himself. This isn’t something he can help Stiles with. The mention of the tattoo flickers doubt back into his mind. Was he really going through with binding his mate to another pack? It’s unheard of an alpha’s mate not being in their pack, let alone be the emissary of another. But Derek would never ask Stiles to leave his pack. With the loving way Stiles speaks about them, he would never dare even consider taking Stiles out of it. He would never consider doing anything that could hurt Stiles. 

But maybe he should tell Stiles. Even though Derek wants to do this tattoo, wants to help Stiles, the situation just keeps on complicating. And Derek doesn’t know if he would be able to do it all. Plus, it would be unfair to Stiles to not tell him the full story.

He opens his mouth when Stiles grabs his hand. Stiles’ eyes are soft and genuine. “Can I just thank you Derek? When you left the other day, I kept on looking at my shoulder. It looked so good, I just couldn’t stop touching it. So thank you.”

A wry smile fills onto Derek’s lips. “So you’d still want me to do the tattoo?” 

“Of course!” Stiles chuckles, looking at Derek as if he’s an idiot. “You’re the best tattooer in the state and what you’ve done so far for me is just..amazing. And on top of that I..I like you.” 

Derek doesn’t think he’s ever heard words that would make him as happy as those. Yet, for some reason he doesn’t feel happy.

\--

When he comes home the house is empty, everyone already having left for bed. On the one hand, he’s glad for it. He isn’t sure he would want to face everyone’s questions. On the other hand, he could really do with the comfort of pack right now. 

As he walks towards his bedroom, he passes the door to Laura’s. Sighing slightly, he listens in and finds his sister is still awake. He pushes open the door and walks into her bedroom. Laura’s in bed, looking up from her phone as he enters. “Hey Der,” her eyes become filled with concern as she looks at him. “you okay?”

He keeps quiet as he climbs into bed with her, dragging his cheek over her arm. He notices the worry spike up in her scent as she moves her hand up in his hair, softly moving through his strands. It ebbs away the bad feeling in his chest.

She shifts in her position, moving to the side to give Derek some more room on her bed. “You wanna talk about it or just sleep?” 

“Sleep please.” Derek huffs out a heavy breath, nuzzling into his sister’s side.

“Okay Der,” Laura kisses the top of his head, plugging her phone into her charger before she turns to lie down next to him, “let’s sleep.” 

He wakes up with not only Laura plastered to his side, but Kiara’s arms around him as well. Cora lies behind her, still asleep if the soft snores are anything to go by. The scent of pack is happy in the air and there is a calmness inside him. Kiara is awake next to him, giving his hand a squeeze as she winks at him. “Morning Der.”

He wraps his arm around her, sighing in content, and stares up at the ceiling. Even though last night had been fun - talking to Stiles about their lives as well as listening to Stiles go on an extensive rant about the lifespan of fruit flies - it had left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. He had truly wanted to tell Stiles about the mate situation, but he now realizes it might be better not to. 

After all, what good would it do? It would change things between them immensely. They were just starting to get to know each other. Wolves mated for life. It was a lot to spring on someone. Especially when that person was about to make a commitment to another pack. A commitment that person was excited about at that. Derek didn’t want to take that away from him. So it would be better to keep things quiet. 

Laura wakes up next to him, smiling when she sees him and Kiara cuddled up, and looks at him tentatively. “Everything all right Der?”

Kiara shifts on his chest, lifting up her head to look at him with kindness in her eyes. Letting him know she’s listening too.

“I’m fine,” he breathes out, “my life is just suddenly a lot more complicated than it used to be.”

“We’re here if you want to talk Der,” Kiara snuggles back against him, “but only if you want to.”

“Yeah, we can also just be your fellow brooders. Frowning your problem away.” Laura smirks, squeezing his shoulder to let him know she was teasing. 

They lay there for a while, enjoying the way their position calms their wolves, as they start to talk about mundane stuff. Laura’s law students were giving her some trouble as all of them had somehow missed their deadline and Kiara was excited about the opening of the new bar she’d be working at. Cora wakes after a while too and sighs as she complains about how her midterm was moved up.

They all look up when Laura’s bedroom door creaks. A scowling Lucas stands in the opening. “Why wasn’t I invited to the family bonding time?” 

When Lucas jumps wildly onto the bed, his knee hitting Derek’s groan, Derek knows that the bubble of peace and quiet he was enjoying is officially over.

\--

Designing Stiles’ tattoo was still something Derek found to be very enjoyable, despite everything. It was such an intricate piece, with so many details Derek had to get right. His sketchbook was now filled with celtic symbols, abstract lines and versions of the icons assigned to each pack member. Stiles had finally decided on a pack of juice for Jackson. Derek supposes it’s some sort of inside joke or maybe this Jackson has a weird obsession with juice. Whatever the reason, Derek is finding it hard to fit a juice curtain into the rest of the tattoo.

But then again, the symbols on this shoulder were all a little stranger. Scott’s bands, Kira’s fox and Allison’s arrow had been simple to stylize. Lydia’s lipstick, Liam’s bite mark and Jackson’s..juice were proving a bit more difficult.

He decides to pop Stiles a text about it. Does he really want a lipstick and a pack of juice on his shoulder forever? It’s an hour later when he gets a reply.

 **Stiles:** _okay i see ur point. For Lydia let’s do a wolfsbane strand instead. But we’re keeping the juice pack_

Derek can’t help his chuckle. This juice thing is apparently so funny Stiles wants to make it permanent. 

**Derek:** _Bite mark still okay for Liam?_

 **Stiles:** _yeah the guy doesn’t really have much else that’s interesting tbh_

 **Derek:** _You could do a broken lamp?_

 **Stiles:** _LMAO since when are you this funny_

Derek frowns. He could be funny.

 **Derek:** _I’m funny._

 **Stiles:** _I know sourwolf, just kidding._

 **Stiles:** _when can I see you again?_

A pleased smile comes onto his lips. It felt good that Stiles wanted to see him. He wants to see Stiles too. Mentally going over his schedule for the week, he realizes he doesn’t have a lot of free time. He’s helping Isaac design his first big piece later this week and then there’s the opening of the new bar Kiara will be working at tomorrow. He frowns. Would it be too early to invite Stiles along to that?

Shamefully he walks over to Erica’s desk, where she’s busy updating their picture archive, feeling like a sixteen year old girl going to ask his more mature friend for advice. “Erica.”

She looks up, seemingly sensing his embarrassment judging by the smirk she’s already sporting. “Yes dear alpha?”

“Would it be..is it-” he sighs, “do you think it’s too early to invite Stiles to Kiara’s thing tomorrow?” 

Her smirk widens at the mention of Stiles’ name, but a softness comes into her eyes. “If you want to invite him Derek, I think you just should.”

He nods, texting the invitation Stiles’ way, and he goes back to check up on the client Isaac is tattooing. The buzz in his pocket turns out to be an excited to come along Stiles and he smiles slightly for the rest of the day.

\--

Whenever the Hale family has somewhere to be, the house turns into a chaos. 

Derek’s been ready to leave for fifteen minutes right now, sitting readily dressed on the couch, but he can still hear Cora and Laura arguing about what to wear upstairs. His mother grins behind her newspaper, clearly having heard the same thing, and his dad just sighs as he goes to sit down on the recliner. They all know this will still take a while. 

Lucas rolls his eyes from where he was leaning against the wall. He rolls up the sleeves of the ACDC shirt he’s wearing before he kicks himself off the wall. “It’s been twenty minutes of this now. I am going to get them.”

Derek huffs out a breath, you’ve got to have admiration for Lucas’ blind optimism. Derek knows they won’t be down for another ten minutes at least. As he looks up at his parents, he knows this is as good a time as any to discuss a few things. “Mom, dad, you haven’t told the girls about the whole Stiles situation right?” 

His mother lowers the newspapers she was holding, a frown coming onto her face. “Of course not sweetheart. That’s your information to share.”

He releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Okay. Good. He’s coming tonight.”

Talia smiles widely at that and Derek can see the quick upturn of his father’s lips as well. “Oh how lovely Derek. We’ve been wanting to meet your mate.” 

Mate. The word still brings up a feeling of confusion inside him. “I haven’t told him.”

“Oh.” His mother looks a little stumped. “Why not?”

He sighs, he hadn’t really wanted to go this deep into the conversation. But he should have known his mother would have presumed he’d immediately told Stiles. “Things are just too complicated right now.”

“But you will tell him?” Andrew’s eyes are sharp.

“I don’t know. Maybe sometime.” 

“Derek-” 

His sisters stumble down the stairs then, Lucas behind them as if he’s a police officer, and Derek is thankful he won’t have to listen to his mother’s lecture. Peter slounders after them, his hair gelled up and wearing his best button up shirt. The one he wears whenever he is out on the hunt for women. Derek wants to sigh at the realization it is going to be that kind of night.

His mother gives him a look telling him this isn’t the end of their conversation and Derek can’t help but drop his shoulders in acceptance as they walk out to the Mustang together. It’s a tight fit, Cora having to sit on his lap, but it works.

Stiles stood waiting for them at the entrance of the bar and Laura squealed when she spotted him, slapping Derek on his chest. “You didn’t tell me Stiles was coming!”

“I didn’t know it was apparently this big a deal.” Derek says dryly. 

Laura rolls her eyes. “God Derek how thick can you be?” 

“I also don’t see why it’s such a big deal Derek’s boyfriend is here.” Cora comments as she passes them by to walk towards the entrance. 

“Derek’s wannabe boyfriend.” Lucas quickly corrects, smirking, as he follows Cora inside. 

Deciding he’s not in the mood for this to turn into the roast of Derek, he heads off to where Stiles is standing, waving as he does so. “Glad you could make it.”

“Glad to be invited.” Stiles smiles and his eyes drop to Derek’s lips with uncertainty. Derek fondly rolls his eyes, planting a quick kiss on Stiles’ lips, before taking his hand and walking towards the bar. The whiff of bashfulness and coyness he gets from Stiles plasters a smile on his lips. 

The bar is cozy looking when they enter. Big wooden benches on the sides with large oak tables in front of them. Both are lined with a gold edge. There are little tables with red leather armchairs beside them. On the far end of the room is a large stone fireplace and the walls are decorated with steel beer advertisements and picture frames. It has a very English pub feeling to it. Derek instantly likes the place. It fits Kiara’s personality a hundred times better than the last fancy club type bar she was working in.

The smell of hops is strongly present as they walk up to the bar, where his family has gathered around Kiara. 

Kiara smiles widely when she sees him, especially when she notices his hand is locked with Stiles’. She crashes him in a hug, pride and enthusiasm about the bar coming from her in waves. “Isn’t it great? We have twelve different wolfsbane beers on tap.” 

She hugs Stiles next, taking the other man a bit by surprise, but he warmly returns her embrace. “Good to meet you Stiles, I’m Kiara.” 

“Ah,” Stiles looks up at him coyly, “that’s the sweet one right?” 

It’s the right joke to make. Laura and Cora immediately gasp and start lecturing Derek on how they are sweet too, whilst Lucas and the adults all burst out laughing. 

His dad steps forwards chuckling, placing a hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “You’ll fit right in.” 

Stiles beems at the comment and a feeling of genuine happiness fills up Derek’s entire body. The rest of the evening is spent chatting comfortably at one of the tables, though Derek does notice his mother is trying a little too hard to impress Stiles. And Peter keeps throwing interested glances up and down Stiles’ body. Derek kicks him under the table, causing for his uncle to roll his eyes. 

When a waitress trips over someone’s bag next to them, the tray filled with full glasses falling through the air, Stiles turns quickly in his chair and flicks his hand. All their eyes widen as the tray with the drinks spilling out is now hanging frozen in the air. With another movement Stiles guides the airborne liquid back into their glasses and straightens the tray so the waitress can grab a hold of it again. Derek has never seen something so cool. It’s clear his family is impressed too, if their grins are anything to judge by.

They end up playing a few rounds of cards and when Stiles beats his father for the third time, Derek can see Andrew truly approves. Derek is enjoying the night a lot, Stiles seems to get along great with his family and the way his scent is now mixed in with that of pack is almost overwhelming. Lucas and Stiles are cracking jokes next to him on a level of sarcasm a little too advanced for the rest of the Hales and Derek frowns, not sure if he likes the idea of Stiles and Lucas teaming up. Seems like the two of them would cause havoc together and enjoy it.

Excusing himself, he wanders over to the bar. Kiara’s busy tending other customers - a lot of people had come to the opening night, which makes sense considering there wasn’t much else to do in Beacon Hills. As soon as she spots him though, she goes to tap a pint of his favourite beer and puts it in front of him effortlessly. “Your last on the house beer of the night, Der. I haven’t got many left.”

“Thanks Kiara.” He smiles. “You having fun?”

“I love it. It’s busy, but that’s good. Keeps me on my toes.” She winks at him and goes back to the group of customers on the other side of the bar.

Derek turns around in order to walk back to the table when Peter is suddenly next to him. His uncle gives him a feral looking grin. “Stiles is a rare one. Kind, clearly advanced in his magic, generally the kind of guy everyone likes and also a bit of a little shit.”

“Is this you giving your approval? Cause I don’t need it, Peter.”

“I know nephew,” Peter goes to lean against the bar, “you haven’t told him yet, have you?” 

The words send a shiver down his spine. He turns around quick, eyebrows sharp. “No and neither will you.” 

Peter huffs out a disbelieving breath. Rolling his eyes as if Derek’s an idiot for the thought. “How cruel do you think I am Derek? I couldn’t care whether you tell him or not. All I wanted to say was that I think the spark would be a fine addition to our pack, so maybe you should reconsider that whole binding tattoo business.”

Derek shakes his head and walks away without another word. When he reaches the table his now sour mood fades away slightly at the sight of Stiles amongst his family. Stiles still seems to sense it though and places his hand on Derek’s leg underneath the table. It feels warm and nice and Derek revels in the feeling.

As the night boils to an end Derek decides to walk Stiles home. Stiles protests this, saying it’s only five minutes, but Derek knows his family would still want to chat to Kiara before they leave so they wouldn’t even miss him. The outside air is fresh on their faces and their hands are back to being tangled together as they head off in the direction of the Stilinski household.

“I hope tonight wasn’t too much,” Derek starts, “having to meet my family and all that.”

“Not at all.” Stiles smiles at him kindly. “Your family’s awesome. Laura is fucking hilarious.”

Derek stops in his place, sending Stiles a warning look. “Don’t ever say that to her. She’s got a big enough ego as it is.”

A warm laugh sputters out of Stiles as he forces Derek back to walking. Then his demeanor becomes serious. “I do need to tell you something. I think you were right about that Jennifer lady.”

Derek once again stops in his tracks. Worry and anger flash through his body. “What happened?”

“Nothing bad!” Stiles quickly spills out. “Don’t go all worried alpha on me.”

“What happened Stiles?” 

“I can tell you whilst we walk,” Stiles pulls on his arm and Derek reluctantly follows, “otherwise we won’t get home. Okay so, I was just in the grocery store this afternoon and then there she was. Which you know, that happens, druids need groceries too. She came up to talk to me, asking me about what being a spark was like and if I’d bound myself yet. Which I thought was a bit weird, but you know, still like half normal. Like still plausible you know?”

“Stiles.” Derek can’t help his growl.

“Sorry, sorry, I babble when I’m nervous,” Stiles huffs out a tense breath, “well the thing is, she left the store without having bought anything.”

A second growl escapes him and he has to let go off Stiles’ hand as he can feel his claws coming out. 

Stiles nods. “Yeah I thought the same thing. Like sometimes you enter a store and don’t buy anything, but not a grocery store right? You need groceries, otherwise why are you in there? And she’d actually been holding on to a cart as well when she spoke to me. So, yeah, maybe she is a little sketchy.”

“A little?” Derek tries to regain control, digging his claws deep into his palms. 

“Okay, so more than a little. But like, what could she want?” 

Derek stops walking again, ignoring the pointed look Stiles gives him, and looks at Stiles with disbelief. “What could she want? She wants you.”

Stiles’ eyebrows form into a frown. “Okay that sounds creepy. What do you mean she wants me?” 

“Stiles,” Derek can’t believe Stiles doesn’t understand, “you’re a spark. You know how rare that is right?” 

“I mean yeah,” Stiles looks uncomfortable with the idea, “but like I’m already in a pack so.”

“And you think everyone will respect that?” 

“I know, I know people don’t.” Stiles sighs. “We had this happen when Scott got his true alpha powers. I just never thought people would think the same of me.”

“I’d say a spark is more valuable than a true alpha.” Derek adds on as they start walking again.

At the paling of Stiles’ face, that was clearly not the right thing to say. He takes back Stiles’ hand in his. “Sorry, that came out wrong. Just..you need to be careful. Please.”

Stiles nods, understanding. They’ve reached his house and Derek pulls on Stiles’ hand, making them face each other. “I mean it Stiles. Be careful. Let me know the second you see her again. And tell Scott, he should know about this too.” 

“I know. I will.” Stiles sends him a wry smile and Derek leans a little further into his space. 

That seems to cheer Stiles up at least a little and he goes in for a kiss. Derek had mostly intended for it to be more off a peck, but the worry his wolf had been feeling made him cling on. Stiles moans underneath him, opening up his mouth and soon their tongues are swirling around each other. Stiles’ hands are swung around Derek’s shoulders, holding on tightly, and Derek can’t help his groan.

When they part, Derek watches Stiles go inside and stays until he’s sure Stiles is safe with his father before heading off to walk back to the bar.

\--

As he walks into Isaac’s apartment, he frowns as he sees the state it’s in. Not because of Isaac, he generally keeps things clean, but the place itself. There are visible cracks in the ceiling and the walls have clear water damage, considering the brown stains now marking them.

Isaac looks a little sheepish when he notices Derek’s looking and quickly sits him down with a bottle of beer. He fumbles out his sketchbook from the bookcrate besides the couch and hands it to Derek as a means of distraction. “Here’s what I got so far.” 

Deciding to entertain the distraction, not wanting Isaac to feel ashamed of where he lived, he opens up the notebook and flips to the last page. It was a sketch for the first big piece Isaac would be setting and it would cover the entire upper leg of his client. It’s a wolf portrait, because of course it is, and Derek laughs as he warns Isaac this will be the first of many to come.

The drawing really isn’t half bad and he spends the rest of the night dissecting it with Isaac, pointing out the little mistakes in length and proportion. Isaac’s got a different style than Derek, the lines he sets are thinner, more delicate. Which is a good thing, it will pull more customers to the shop when they can offer a more diverse range of tattooing.

When Isaac has redone the drawing, having fixed the couple of errors that had been in the first version, Derek decides it’s time to bring up the elephant in the room. Or well..the room itself actually.

“Isaac,” Derek looks at him pointedly, “how much are you paying for this shithole again?” 

Isaac releases a pained breath, shame rushing through him. “I know Derek. I’m looking for something else, but there’s just not many affordable apartments in Beacon Hills. In fact, there are barely any apartments at all.”

Derek nods, understanding. He’d briefly given moving out a thought, but he’d get lonely without his pack, and he knew how little options there were for singles. “Why don’t you just move back in with us?”

The widening of Isaac’s eyes shows he was not expecting Derek to say that. But Derek had meant it. When he’d just bitten Isaac and the whole trial of his father was still in progress, Isaac had lived at the Hale house for a year. It had actually been nice, good for the newly bitten wolf as well to be around a pack, and everyone had been sad when Isaac moved out.

“I mean it Isaac,” Derek stands up, squeezing his beta’s shoulder, “you’re more than welcome. We’d rather have you back in our attic than we’d have you living in a way too expensive dump. Think about it.”

\--

It’s a weird day when he finally meets Scott Mccall. 

Derek had been working at his desk in the shop, when the other alpha had walked in. Isaac’s head snapped up from where he was sitting next to Derek in response. Considering Scott, Talia and Derek shared the Beacon Hills territory, though the preserve was Hale land only, there was no need for any officials.

Derek heard Erica chat a little with Scott and decided to walk to the front to properly greet the man. He still felt a little awkward about their first meeting at the full moon, it hadn’t been a good look for Derek, so it would be nice to correct that. He hoped Scott wasn’t upset or angry about it.

Scott was not. He was all smiles, big brown eyes sparkling with amusement and a lopsided grin on his face. “Derek, good to finally meet you! Been hearing a lot about you lately.” 

Derek raised his eyebrows, not sure how to respond to that, and shook Scott’s hand. “What can I help you with?” 

Scott grinned happily, excitement filling up his scent, as he moved to get something out of his bag. Derek used the moment to observe the guy. With his floppy hair, somehow skinny demeanor and overall ‘I’m adorable’ look, Derek would have never guessed the guy was an alpha.

“Stiles told me you were up for doing my tattoo! So great man. I fucking love the one you did on Liam, so I’m all pumped for it.” Scott’s eyes are hopeful as he hands Derek a piece of paper.

On it was a badly done stick figure with two thick bands around his right arm. Derek always thinks it’s funny when clients bring in a drawing, especially if it’s one as bad as this. He doesn’t tell Scott that though and just smiles up at the younger guy. “Stiles told me a little about what you wanted and it seems like that’s something I can do. You want them to look a bit tribal right?” 

The speed and enthusiasm with which Scott nods almost makes Derek’s neck hurt from looking at it. He smiles, finding Scott to be endearing somehow. “Sounds like a good plan. Erica can take your details and book you in, I’m sorry but I do have to get back to work.” 

“Yeah of course,” the lopsided grin is back, “but you three should come to our barbeque this friday!”

Derek wasn’t too sure if that was a good idea but Erica and Isaac literally jumped up from excitement and already accepted the invitation on his behalf. Looks like he’d have to prepare for meeting the rest of Stiles’ pack then.

\--

Friday came quick, the rest of the week passing in a blur, and Derek felt strangely jittery as he went to pick up Isaac and Erica. He never liked entering another alpha’s territorium, even if he was invited there. Stiles had been stoked he was coming though and had texted him about it at least eight times today. Which made it worth it. 

Derek was also curious to see juice lizard guy in real life.

Erica was chatting animatedly from the passenger seat, giving him a quick overview of who was who in the Mccall pack and had already duped tonight the ‘Tiny Hale pack meets their neighbours barbeque’. He liked seeing her so excited and he knew it was because they hadn’t had a pack outing since Jungle. He tried to do things with his betas as much as he could, pack building was important, but sometimes it kind of slipped through. He’s sorry for it though.

When they arrive at Lydia’s house, the nerves inside him have settled. Lydia opens the door, wearing a flowy summer dress and her hair is up in boxer braids, and welcomes them inside. Derek only frowns briefly, not used to anyone else other than the alpha making first contact, but then he realizes the Mccall pack is pretty unconventional. Most of them had started out as humans, which meant there was not as much need for things to be official. Considering it’s Lydia’s house, it actually makes sense she would open the door. 

His betas don’t seem to care about it at all as they barge inside after having greeted Lydia. Derek talks to her for a little bit as they walk to the backyard together, finding out that she didn’t just have her sharp tongue when she was drunk.

Walking through the porch door, Scott seems extremely happy to see him and skips all usual alpha formalities by crashing Derek into a hug when he greets him. It takes Derek a little by surprise but he chuckles. Yeah, he’d been taking the idea of this meeting a bit too seriously it seems.

Stiles stands on the other side of the garden, chatting to a brunette Derek hasn’t met before, and when he spots Derek he gets the biggest smile Derek has ever seen him have on his lips. 

The kiss he gets is almost bruising and Derek can smell that Stiles has already had a drink or two. Not that he minds, it just seems to make Stiles a little more affectionate. 

Erica wolf whistles from the other side of the garden and Derek sends her a quick glare. The rest of their packs seem to be snickering too and Stiles comes to their defense quickly. “Oh shut up you heathens, you’re all just jealous I landed myself a fine piece of ass.” 

Isaac scrunches his nose. “Don’t say that kinda stuff about my alpha, Stiles. It’s gross.” 

“Don’t be a prude Isaac,” Erica grins as she goes to sit down with the others on the lounge set, “we always knew daddy alpha had a good ass.” 

Stiles looks over him with laughter and a dangerous gleam in his eyes. “Alpha daddy?” 

“You’re not allowed to call me that.” Derek grunts. “Ever.” 

The snicker Stiles releases already tells Derek that the request won’t be respected. They walk over to the lounge set, Derek greeting everyone. Turns out the only person here he hadn’t met before was Allison. It felt a little weird sitting on the couch with an Argent, but she was Chris' daughter so he knew she was from the good side of her family. And the girl was clearly friendly as she and Kira started talking with him about his shop.

Liam kept butting in, wanting to show off his tattoo, and the eyerolls the Mccall pack gave each other told Derek Liam tended to do that a lot. Lydia comes back out of the house, the heels she’s wearing clicking on the tiled terrace, carrying a large lemonade tap. It’s filled with a clear liquid that has purple flowers floating inside it, wolfsbane Derek realizes, and everyone in the Mccall pack seems excited to get their hands on a glass. 

Lydia hands him one too with a stern look, making it so Derek doesn’t dare refuse, and he finds the drink to actually have a pleasant taste to it. It’s fizzly, tastes of tonic and brambles filling up his mouth. The flavour of wolfsbane is present, but not as much as Derek had expected. He offers his cup to Stiles, who huffs out a quick no. “I always see my parents when I drink that stuff and then someone will have to carry me home as I cry. Not how I want this night to go. Hear that Lydia, I’m not consenting to the drink!”

Derek frowns, having heard about the visions humans can get from wolfsbane, and he wants to ask Stiles more about it when Lydia cuts them off with an exasperated look. “Oh my god Stiles, I only accidently poisoned you twice, don’t be a baby.”

Stiles laughs as he points an accusing finger her way. “You say that now Martin.”

The mention of her last name makes Derek think about the other person he’d wanted to meet. He looks over at Stiles. “Where’s juice guy?” 

“Juice guy?” Allison looks at them confused. 

"He's way in London for a month." Stiles gets a satisfied grin on his face, chuckling, as he goes to explain. “So I might have chosen Jackson’s symbol to be a juice pack.” 

Pleased laughs fill the garden and Scott sputters out the loudest bark of laughter Derek’s heard in a long time, walking towards Stiles from where he was standing behind the grill. The two end up with their arms around each other with a familiarity that only comes after years of friendship, Scott positively weezing into Stiles’ neck. “That is the best thing I’ve ever heard.” 

Lydia has a pleased look on her face. “He’ll hate that. I love it.”

“What am I getting?” Allison wonders out loud, curiosity visible in her visage.

“An arrow.” Derek answers for Stiles and the smile Allison gets tells him she likes that. 

Every pack member seems eager to get to know what Stiles is getting for them and his binding tattoo is quickly becoming the topic of the evening. Scott puts a pack of seasoned hamburgers on the grill as he suddenly comes to a realization. “Then three of us will have Derek tattoos! We’ll be a matching set!”

“Oh my god,” Erica says from where’s she slumped against Isaac, her speech a bit slurred from the four glasses of the punch she’d had, as she looks at Isaac and Derek sharply, “we should get a pack tattoo guys! Why don’t we have a pack tattoo? We literally work in a tattoo shop.”

Derek huffs out a breath of laughter, but finds that he actually doesn’t hate the idea. He’s got the triskele, the Hale symbol, already. Maybe it would be nice to add a tattoo for his own pack as well. He’d been wanting new ink anyway lately.

“I’d been wanting to get the triskele actually.” Isaac admits, blushing as he looks up at Derek. Derek feels fondness come over himself and he surges happiness through their pack bond. Isaac smiles, lowering his eyes.

“Then the triskele it is.” Erica yells loudly, raising her cup in the air as if she’s giving a toast. Derek feels touched by the idea his betas would want to get a triskele, but he feels they should also get something else with the three of them. That was a discussion for another time though.

Stiles looks pensive next to him. “Is the triskele a you thing?” 

“It’s a Hale thing. It’s been the symbol of our family forever.” Derek looks up to find the rest of the Mccall pack is listening too. “It stands for the connection between the earth, the human and the moon.”

“It’s the symbol of the original shapeshifters.” Allison adds in.

Derek nods, briefly surprised by how she knows that before remembering she’s an Argent. 

“Your family were the first werewolves?” Liam’s eyes are wide.

Derek shrugs, feeling a bit uncomfortable under the sudden attention. “One of the first packs, yes.”

The Mccall packs looks in awe at that and Derek tries to come up with another topic to talk about, feeling a bit flustered. Stiles seems to notice and goes to speak up. “That’s cool and all, but I’m starving. How are those burgers coming along Scott?”

The pair of them walks over to the grill, checking up on the state of the meat. Conversation shifts to high school memories and Derek is glad for the distraction. Stiles comes back carrying plates with finished burgers wrapped in a bun, green leaves of lettuce sticking out, and hands them out. Tastes of black angus beef and a garlic sauce fill up Derek’s mouth at the first bite and he hums at the sensation. 

Kira has a sweet smile on her face as she looks at him and Stiles. “So when is this tattoo happening, Derek?” 

Derek shrugs, looking over at Stiles before smiling back at the kitsune. “We’re hoping soon. We still need to figure out how to bind it and I’ve still got to add the no harm symbol but-”

“The no harm symbol?” Lydia’s brows furrow. Stiles sighs as he lets himself sink into the lounge pillows and Derek gets the feeling he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Yeah,” Derek looks over at Stiles, who looks irritated at the topic, and he isn’t sure whether he should say anything else. It’s clear Stiles hadn’t told his pack about this. Stiles sighs loudly, moving back up to face his pack.

“It’s an emissary thing guys, not a big deal. It just means that I can never harm any of you.”

“That sounds like a big deal.” There’s a hint of displeasure in Lydia’s voice but her eyes are calculating as if she’s still weighing things over. “What does it mean exactly, Stiles?” 

“It means I can’t harm you.” Stiles sighs again as if he knows the admission won’t land well with his pack. “Ever.”

The cries of outrage might not have been what Derek expected, but he can’t help but be pleased that Stiles’ pack seems to feel the same about this as Derek. 

“You can’t do that Stiles,” Scott cries out, “what if one of us loses control and attacks you?”

Kira nods as if she agrees. “You need to be able to defend yourself, Stiles.”

Annoyance fills up Stiles’ scent, revealing he had suspected this is how the conversation would go, and his voice is defensive as he speaks up. “It’s an emissary tradition. Every binding tattoo has them. Deaton has them. It’s just a part of it.”

The pack didn’t seem to agree with that sentiment, objections flying through the air, and Derek felt the atmosphere turn sour around them. Erica and Isaac were wisely keeping themselves out of it, but Derek couldn’t resist the urge to say something. “It’s true. At first I wasn’t sure about it either, but Deaton told me it’s a common thing to do.”

Lydia looks over at him and Stiles pensively. “Common doesn’t mean necessary. But Stiles, if this is something you feel you have to do, then I trust you. You know more about it than we do.”

Stiles releases a breath next to him, clearly still on edge, and whilst the conversation changes around them it’s clear the happy atmosphere from before isn’t coming back.

As Derek leaves, Erica and Isaac walking home together considering their places are close to Lydia’s, Stiles walks with him to the camaro. Derek’s shoulders are heavy as things between them feel tense. He grabs Stiles’ hand, forcing the other guy to face him. “I’m sorry if I ruined things, I didn’t know you hadn’t told them.” 

“It’s not your fault,” Stiles sighs softly, “I should have told them before.”

Derek attempts a smile, but it seems Stiles’ mood is ruined. He squeezes his hand. “I still had fun. I’ll see you next week?”

“Yeah,” Stiles looks up with an ingenuine smile, “now you’ll have to excuse me. Seems like I have a lecture waiting for me.”

Stiles walks off without another word and Derek gets a heavy feeling in his chest. He can’t help but think Stiles is annoyed with him and that thought rattles his wolf. Getting inside of the car, all he can think about is how to make things right.

\--

Isaac stands in front of his door two days later, holding two big duffels bags in his hands. His eyes are unsure as he looks at Derek. “Can I stay here for a while?” 

Before he can answer, Talia comes up next to Derek and squeezes Isaac’s hand lovingly. “You can stay for as long as you like.”

The small smile on Isaac’s face fills Derek up with joy and the feeling of pack strengthens as he walks into the house. Talia guides Isaac up to the attic, where his old room was still untouched. It was technically a guest room now, but most of them still viewed it as Isaac’s. 

Derek can’t help his smile, feeling pleased at Isaac being in the centre of his territory, and walks into the kitchen to find Lucas struggling with his math homework. Derek had never been a star at math and Lucas was horrible at accepting help, but somehow they managed to spend the next half hour working out the equations together. The coffee machine is purring behind them as it whips up a fresh batch.

As Laura enters the kitchen, Derek’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He goes to check it mindlessly, his whole body tensing in dread as he reads its contents.

 **Stiles:** _she’s in my house_

A loud growl escapes him and Laura and Lucas give him a worried look as he shifts in front of them. The thoughts that fill his head are too angry and too worried for him to convey, his wolf howling inside him. She’s with Stiles. That druid bitch is with Stiles. He should have known better than to leave this situation to run its own course. He should have done something. He should have protected Stiles before any of this could have happened. Now the bitch is with his mate. 

He runs out of the kitchen, not controlling his claws from coming out, and Laura and Lucas rush after him. He bumps into his mother on his way out and she grabs a strong hold of his arm, eyes red. “What’s wrong?”

“Stiles.”

Talia nods, the simple word enough for her to understand what he’s feeling. “Go. We’ll follow.”

“Call Scott.” He manages to bark out over his shoulder before he sprints out the door.

He feels a little like Jacob Black as he runs out the house and lets his full shift take over, but he can’t find it in himself to care. He needs to get to Stiles. His bones crack painfully in his back and he ignores the feeling as he lets his paws slide across the forest floor, twigs snapping underneath the speed of his run. He howls loudly in panic, calling for the support of his pack.

The Stilinski house comes into his sight and he growls as he smells the bitter scent of blood. He rushes to the front door and spots Scott running in beta shift on the end of the street. They both howl as they see each other and Derek waits anxiously for the other alpha to reach him. Even though it only took Scott a second, it felt like forever. 

Scott roughly pulls open the door, using his claws to scratch open the windshield, and they rush inside to find Stiles in the arms of what Derek can only describe as a monster. The creature is completely bald, skin an eerie white, with deep red slashes all over its face. His nose tells him it’s Jennifer, even though she looks nothing like the modestly dressed woman he’d seen in his shop. There’s a female alpha wolf next to her, with dark long hair framing her face and eyes a deep red. She snarls as they step forwards, the claws on her feet scraping across the floor threateningly. 

“Ah look at that,” the creature, or Jennifer, hisses out through the thin lips she now sports, “not one but three alphas fighting over you, spark.”

Stiles huffs out a breath and Derek’s insides roar at hearing the weakness in the sound. Stiles looks horrible. There’s blood leaking out of a wound on his stomach, scratches on his face, and he seems to be struggling to keep his eyes open. Derek has to fight every instinct he has to not rip out Jennifer’s throat right then and there, but he knows that would not help the situation. 

“Let him go!” Scott growls out over his teeth. 

The creature snickers, the sound filled with distaste. “Afraid I can’t do that.” 

She flicks her hand then and Derek can feel himself flying through the air, hitting the living room wall with a loud thud. It takes a second for him to be back up on his feet and he can see the other alpha moving to open the back door. He growls, pouncing forwards, and bites into her side. 

The alpha hisses, pushing her claws into his neck, and he bites down further, pulling her onto the floor. There they roll around, Derek biting down on whatever part of her he can reach. He’s still getting used to his alpha shift, but it seems his bite is a lot more powerful now. Her claws dig further into his skin, desperately trying to stop him from biting through her leg. He hears Scott attack Jennifer behind him but he doesn’t have the time to look. 

A sour scent fills the air, some kind of herb Derek can’t recognize, and his nose starts to burn. It’s a sharp kind of pain and everything up his nostrils feels like it’s on fire. He shakes his head, needing to get that smell out of his nose as it feels like it’s tearing away at his skin. It forces him to release his grip on the alpha and he can see her having a similar reaction underneath him. 

“Sorry my lover,” Jennifer says, voice suddenly light and sweet, “you know I hate to bring out the lycoctonum when you’re around.”

Derek hears the back door open and no, he is not letting this happen. Fighting the feeling that his nose is about to fall off, he jumps up and bites Jennifer in her wrist. His teeth clasp around her and he uses all the strength he has to bite down. He hears her bone snap underneath him and she lets out a scream as she drops her hold on Stiles.

It’s not a lot, but it gives Scott enough space to be able to crawl in front of Stiles protectively. 

Jennifer snarls down at Derek. “You shouldn’t have done that, alpha Hale.”

An immense pain fills up Derek’s body and he can’t help but fall to the floor squirming. It feels as if he’s skin is being ripped off. The feeling is burning him up, his head spinning, and he releases a pained howl. Not for himself, but for the fact Stiles is still in danger.

It’s then when he hears a loud, agonizing scream above him. The pain stops. He looks up to see Jennifer hanging frozen in the air and his eyes widen when he realizes Stiles is doing it. Jennifer, or the creature she’s become, is holding onto her face in pain, releasing sounds that seem inhuman. Lydia’s standing in the middle of the room, snarling as if she's a wolf, both the Hale and Mccall pack strong in numbers behind her. Derek stands up, the view of his pack helping him regain his strength.

Lydia throws another hand of white powder onto Jennifer, who releases another pained scream at the contact, and Derek’s mind catches up: she’s throwing mistletoe. 

He backs away, rushing over to Stiles, and a pained whine comes out of him. Stiles looks horrible, now unconscious after having used his last energy to freeze Jennifer, and Derek can’t help attempting to take away his pain. 

His mother steps forwards, ignoring the still screaming druid on the floor, and walks over to the alpha. “Kali.”

The alpha lets out a snarl, attempting to scratch Talia with her claws. But his mother is quicker, almost lightning fast as she pounces on Kali and knocks the other alpha out cold. The sound of her body falling limp to the floor sends relief through them all, giving them a chance to catch their breath. Derek uses the moment to shift back.

Scott stands up from where he had still been crawled up next to Stiles. “You know her, alpha Hale?”

“Yes,” Talia turns around, letting the red bleed out of her eyes now the immediate danger is gone, “she was one of the alpha’s I would meet with for business. But then she killed her own pack, attempting to create an alpha pack of some sorts. We shut her down. Never saw her again after that, until now.”

Lydia is crouched down next to Stiles now, eyes big with worry. “Is he okay? There’s death in the air, I feel like I have to scream.” 

“Not his death you’re feeling, sweetheart.” Peter huffs out as he stands above the still screaming Jennifer. Before anyone can protest, he’s already slit her throat. He turns around with a smirk. “I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t focus with that background noise.”

Derek finds himself pleased to see her dead, if Peter hadn’t done it he would have.

Talia gives Peter a reprimanding look. “For fuck’s sake Peter. We could have questioned her.” 

Peter just winks at Derek before facing the others. “You can still question the alpha, dear sister.”

“Right,” his mother huffs out a disagreeing breath, “but you’re cleaning up this mess before the Sheriff comes home.”

“Right the sheriff,” Scott gets out his phone, giving Stiles a last uneasy glance, “I should call him. And my mom.”

“His heartbeat is steady. He should be fine.” Derek says to a still worried Lydia, mostly also attempting convincing himself of that fact. Stiles is frighteningly pale between them and more people come over to hear Stiles’ heartbeat for themselves. Derek can’t do anything else than stare, the veins in his forearms a deep black as he tries to drag out as much of Stiles’ pain as he can.

He doesn’t know how many time has passed when Laura’s hands come up on his shoulders, squeezing down gently. “Derek, you’re bleeding. We should check your wounds.”

It takes all he has to not turn around and snap at his sister. She obviously means well, but there is no way he is leaving Stiles’ side. “I’m fine Laura.”

“No, you’re not.” She starts to protest, but then their mother comes over and pulls her away, telling her to give him some space. He hears them bickering as they walk out the house and he sighs, tiredness of the day kicking in.

Lydia bumps his shoulder, sending him a comforting smile. “He’s fine Derek. I would feel it if he wasn’t.” 

Looking into her eyes, he sees they’re both feeling the same mixture of concern and relief. There’s so much love and genuinity in her scent, it makes him accept the situation for what it is. Stiles will be fine. He is fine. Derek releases the breath he was holding.

She squeezes his shoulder and he can see a seriousness coming into her eyes. “You should let your sister look at your wounds because you are hurt. There’s nothing you can do for Stiles here, except making sure you’re okay yourself. I’ll stay with him until you’re back.”

Derek nods, realizing that she’s right, and walks outside to where his family’s gathered. Isaac’s there too, on the phone with the hospital to inquire about the ambulance. Walking over to Laura, he mumbles out an apology and his sister just smiles, wrapping him up in a comforting hug before going to check on his wounds.

It’s then when Kiara comes running over in her waitress uniform, eyes a bright gold. “What happened?”

Laura gives Derek a careful look and speaks up when he doesn’t. “We don’t know exactly, but a druid tried to take Stiles.”

“My God,” Kiara releases a shocked breath, “is everything okay? I wanted to come as soon as I heard your howl, but they were being difficult at work.” 

“Stiles should be fine.” His mother walks over to them and Derek feels himself calming at the confirmation from his alpha. “And that was no druid. That was a darach.”

His sisters and mother start a discussion about what a darach is but Derek can’t find it in himself to care. He walks over to a still on the phone Scott. The other guy gives him a tense smile, hanging up his phone call with his mother, and they sit down on the porch in silence. Derek realizes now more than ever that Stiles is in the right pack for him. The way Scott and the others came for him today, he can see the level of trust and protection there. 

\--

Derek sits on the hospital bench, the wooden material hard underneath his body. Anxiety rushes through him as he waits for the nurses to give him an update on Stiles. He hadn’t been allowed in the room, family and pack only, and Scott had given his shoulder a supportive squeeze before he went in. Scott said he’d pull some strings with his mother, but Derek wasn’t counting on anything.

He checks his phone, texting his sisters that he’s fine, when the door to Stiles’ hospital room opens. An older man comes out, with light blonde hair and a square jaw. He has heavy bags under his eyes and tense lines are visible in his face. Derek looks down, noticing the police uniform and the golden badge that catches some of the light in the dimly lit hallway, and realizes it’s Stiles’ father. He stands up.

The sheriff looks at him, a tense but friendly smile coming on his lips. “I hear I have you to thank for my son’s life.”

Derek swallows, lowering his eyes. “I think that’s too much credit sir. He saved himself.”

The sheriff sighs, the sound revealing how tired the man is, and he moves to sit down on the bench Derek had just sat on. He looks at the door to the room Stiles is in before looking back at Derek. “Thank god Beacon Hills hospital has a good magic department. Ms. Morrell is with him.”

“Good,” Derek releases the breath he’d been holding, “is he awake?”

“Not yet.” The sheriff looks pained at the fact. “He needs to refill his spark first. Or at least that’s what Morrell said. I don’t understand much of this magic stuff.”

“Makes sense.” Derek says, sitting back down as well. “He probably wore himself out trying to fight before we got there.”

“Yeah. Stiles is a fighter.” A proud gleam comes into the sheriff’s eyes, making place for a friendly look as he pats Derek’s shoulder. “You should go home son, I’ll have Scott call you when he wakes. He’ll want to see you.” 

He knows the sentiment was meant well, but Derek knows there was no way he could leave without knowing Stiles was okay. Without seeing and smelling it himself. His mate was in there. And it was his fault. He was not leaving. “I’ll stay sir, if that’s okay.” 

“That’s okay too.” The sheriff nods as if he understands what Derek is feeling. “And there’s no need for the sir, Derek. Call me John.”

“Thanks John.” Derek sends the older man a tentative smile.

The sheriff stands up, grunting as he does so, and he looks at the door unhappily. “I have to head into the station actually. Something about a dead druid.”

Derek feels a flash of shame. It felt wrong that Peter’s actions, as much as Derek agreed with them, were keeping the sheriff away from his injured son. The sheriff seems to notice his discomfort and smiles down at him as if they’ve known each other for years. “Don’t worry son. It was self defense. Anyone that disagrees will have to go through me.”

With a quick wink, the sheriff walks off. Derek somehow feels a lot more calm than before their conversation. He sees why John would be a good sheriff. He’s calm and grounded yet has an unquestionable authority over him. It reminds him of the same strong calmness his mother has. Derek closes his eyes, letting himself sniff Stiles through all the biting smells of pain and medicine. He hates hospitals. 

After an hour his stomach starts to rumble and his back has been protesting the hard bench for a while now. He sighs as he gets up to slounder over to the café downstairs. Getting some food would be good. And coffee. A strong coffee. The café is small, the stench of hospital still strongly present, and a few nurses stand gossiping in the corner. He watches them for a bit, their eyes are all tired as they move to pick out a microwave meal. Most of them are wearing blue scrubs, but two ladies have on purple ones. Derek knew purple stood for supernatural and he idly wonders if only purple wearing nurses are allowed to treat nonhuman patients.

The café only sells prepackaged food. He walks over to the sandwich counter, figuring he should get something he doesn’t have to heat up. Letting his eyes scan over the options, none of them looking too good, he startles when he feels a tap on his shoulder. God, he really is tired, considering he hadn’t even heard someone coming.

Turning around, there’s a dark-skinned woman, Derek would say she’s in her thirties, standing in front of him. She’s wearing a doctor’s coat with a purple lining. Supernatural department then. Her eyes are intense, not seeming to blink once as she looks him over, and she lifts her chin as she speaks. “Are you alpha Hale?” 

“I am.” 

“Good,” the woman nods, “I’m ms. Morrell. Head of the magic department here in the hospital. I think you’ll be pleased to hear your mate has woken up.”

He almost drops the sandwich he’s holding, he’s been gone for not even ten minutes. Why had no one let him know? Then he realizes she’d said mate. Frowning, he looks over at her. She seems to see his surprise and releases a soft chuckle. “No worries alpha Hale, I haven’t told him. But you have a strong bond, I can sense it, and I think you being with him will help comfort him.”

He follows her to the room, trying his hardest to not overtake her and start running, and once he enters he can’t help but gasp at the sight of Stiles. There are scratches all over his face, including a deep gash on his cheek, and there’s a bruise forming on his neck. Derek rushes over, getting his hand on Stiles’ arm to suck some pain away. Even though Scott is already doing the exact same on his other side. 

Stiles huffs out a laugh at the sight, wincing when it hurts his ribs, before looking at Derek fondly. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Derek can’t help his smile. His wolf finally settles at the sight of his mate, safe and alive. “How are you feeling?” 

“Like shit.” Stiles grins. “Not every day you get cornered by an evil druid.” 

“The proper term is darach,” Ms. Morrell walks into the room, her white doctor coat flowing behind her, “also known as druids gone black.”

She goes to stand at the feet of Stiles’ bed and sends him a warm smile. “How is your spark feeling Stiles?” 

“Umh,” Stiles bites his lip as he thinks it over, “pretty empty I’d say.”

“That was to be expected. She tapped into your magic for a bit before your alphas showed up.”

Stiles grins as if he likes the sound of both of them being his alpha and Scott rolls his eyes fondly across from him, but his lips are a thin line. Derek isn’t sure what he feels about the term either.

Ms. Morrell continues. “The only thing to do is rest. Give it time to recover. Do you remember everything, Stiles?”

“Yeah.” For some reason Stiles looks up at Derek as he says that.

“That’s good.” Ms. Morrell smiles, pleased. “Should we wait for your father to get here before we discuss things further?” 

“I’m here, I’m here,” The sheriff enters the room, out of breath as if he ran all the way here. Which he probably did, knowing the man. John beams at the sight of his son awake. The heartbreaking hug that follows almost makes Derek tear up. There’s so much love visible in the embrace, even if John is reprimanding Stiles under his breath. 

After ten full seconds, Stiles gently pushes his father backwards onto the bed. “I’m fine dad.”

Derek can’t help the fond smile on his lips and when he looks up he can see similar ones on Scott and ms. Morrell. She steps forwards, tentatively placing her hand on John’s shoulder to urge him to stand up fully. He does, swallowing, and they all wait for her to speak.

“Stiles. If you are able to, it would be good for us to know what happened exactly.” 

Stiles visibly swallows, straightening up a little in his bed. A flash of pain enters his scent at the movement and Derek gets his hand back on his arm, immediately back to sucking out the pain. Stiles sighs contentedly at the sensation before he starts the story. 

“I was just doing some work downstairs, my essay, when I heard the kitchen window scatter. I didn’t know who it was or how my wards hadn’t alerted me, but it sounded like bad news. So I made myself invisible.” Derek hadn’t known Stiles could do that, turning invisble, and he feels slightly impressed. “Then this..I want to say monster walked in. You saw her right? She looked horrible. I..I knew it was her though. Jennifer.”

“Her real name was Julia Baccari actually.” Ms. Morrell adds in. 

Stiles sighs at hearing that, frustration filling up his features at the realization she'd conned him. “It’s stupid, Derek warned me about her but I didn’t really do anything with it. So stupid. I strengthened the wards a little, but apparently not enough.”

Derek can’t help his outburst. “It’s not your fault Stiles.”

Stiles gives him a small smile, but it’s clear he doesn’t agree. John smacks him on his arm, pulling a pained yelp out of Stiles and he frowns up at his father. “What was that for?” 

“The blame yourself party you were having up in there.” John folds his arms over each other. “Now go on.”

Stiles sighs, but does continue. “She spotted me, I don’t know how, but she did. She had me on the ground within a second and I tried to throw some fireballs her way but I couldn’t move anymore. There was this pain. It hurt so much, I..can’t describe it.” 

Derek nods, knowing it was the same spell she’d put on him. It had immobilized him and he was an alpha wolf. He can’t imagine what it did to Stiles. 

“Then things faded in and out. There was this alpha. She had these..toe claws. I think she scratched me, not too sure. I burned her and she got pissed off. You guys showed up not much later.”

“Good, that’s good Stiles.” Ms. Morrell softens her voice and the delicacy she’s speaking with starts to somehow annoy Derek. “Luckily you’re going to be completely fine. She, and your own magic use, have just drained your spark a little. It will need some time to recharge and the injury on your side will need to be cleaned twice a day, but should heal up nicely.”

She looks at the others then. “I want to ask you to clear the room in a little, Stiles needs his rest.”

With that she leaves the room and Derek can’t help but sigh in relief. Stiles smiles up at him, eyes tired, and John steps forwards. “Stiles, I’m sorry son, but I have to ask. Do you know why they targeted you?” 

Stiles briefly looks at Derek before he answers. “She needed a spark. And because I’m not yet bonded to a pack, they could bind me to theirs.”

That puts a grimace on all their faces and Derek bites on the insides of his cheeks, annoyed he couldn’t have protected Stiles from this. Maybe if he’d hurried a bit more with the tattoo, this wouldn’t have happened.

Ten minutes pass, in which Scott and John mostly fill the silence, before ms. Morrell comes to kick them out. Derek gives Stiles’ hand a quick squeeze as he heads out behind the others.

“Derek,” Stiles’ voice is soft as it comes from the hospital bed, “can you maybe stay?” 

Ms. Morrell sighs but a small smile comes over her face and she closes the door, giving Derek her approval with her eyes. He turns back around, the scent of Stiles’ pain is still strong in the air, and he moves over to stand beside his mate’s bed.

Stiles smiles up at him weakly, tiredness and frustration whiffing off him, and Derek looks over at the door for a second. There’s no one there to see them, so he kicks off his shoes and climbs up on the bed next to Stiles. Stiles releases a breath, clearly pleased at that, and he moves into Derek’s side. Derek lets Stiles settle before wrapping an arm around him. “I was so worried today. When I got your text, I..I didn’t know what to do.”

“You came.” Stiles releases a pained sound. “I knew you would, but still you came.”

“Of course I came.” Derek doesn’t have the heart to tell him he would always come for Stiles. Whatever the reason. Stiles had become the most important thing in his life these past few weeks and Derek would do anything to protect him.

“I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t shown up. She would have taken me and forced me to bind to her.” Stiles voices cracks on the last few words and Derek tightens his hold on him.

“I would never have let that happen,” he kisses Stiles’ forehead, the thought upsetting him as much as it did Stiles, “never.” 

The salty odor of tears fills the room and Derek pulls Stiles closer against his chest. His hands are strong on Stiles’ back and Stiles is hanging on as if his life depends on it. Derek can feel the wetness of Stiles’ crying dampen his shirt and he knows this is pain he can’t take away. So he just holds Stiles, letting his arms slide over his back in an attempt to give comfort. They lay there for a while, silence filling up the room.

Stiles releases a sniffle as he backs out of Derek’s chest. “I’m sorry, I’m just...”

“Don’t be sorry,” Derek sighs softly, “today was terrifying. I was scared too. I thought I could lose you.” 

“It’s kind of weird,” Stiles manages to huff out a chuckle, “I feel like I’ve known you all my life. Like you’ve always been here. With me. That’s weird right?” 

A smile falls onto Derek’s lips. He knew that was the mate bond Stiles was feeling. But this was definitely not the time or place for that conversation. He kisses the top of Stiles’ head, offering him the best explanation he can give right now instead. “I know. I feel the same.”

“I’m glad you’re here though.” Stiles releases a sigh. “I keep thinking she’ll come back for me.”

“She can’t. She’s dead Stiles. I saw Peter do it with my own eyes.”

“I know,” Stiles shifts in his arms, sitting up on the bed, “I just keep thinking about her. She had these terrifying eyes. Like a skeleton.”

“I don’t think skeletons have eyes.” Derek huffs out, attempting to lighten Stiles’ mood.

It seems to work, Stiles releasing a soft chuckle. “Oh shut up.”

A comfortable silence comes between them and Derek goes to draw patterns onto Stiles’ arm with his fingers. Stiles’ heartbeat is still fast and irregular in his ears. Stiles releases a breath, looking down at where Derek is lying. “I’m just..still scared. I know she is dead, but what about others? Others might come. Like you said, a spark is more valuable than even a true alpha.”

Derek was really hating his past self right now, his own foolishly said words biting him in his arse. He sits up on the bed too, facing Stiles. Placing his hand over Stiles’ hand and squeezing supportively. “We’ll move up the tattoo. Once your binding to Scott is complete, you won’t be useful to others.” 

Stiles nods at that and they lay back down together, Stiles falling asleep in his arms, until ms. Morrell comes to kick him out properly this time.

\--

Derek’s head is still spinning the next day, unsure of everything except that he intends to keep his promise to Stiles’. He will tattoo Stiles. As soon as he can. It is what will keep Stiles safe. 

The bedsheets tickle his legs and he kicks them off, knowing he won’t be catching any more sleep anyway. Walking over to his wardrobe, he pulls on a comfortable pair of sweatpants and an old basketball shirt. It’s suspiciously quiet downstairs, even when he listens in closely. He can hear the faint humming of the television and sniffing, he realizes only his sisters appear to be home.

All three of them look at him when he walks through the living room door. There’s a sense of concern in their scents and Derek manages to huff out a breath. “Is there any coffee?”

“No,” Kiara stands up, smiling warmly. She briefly touches his chest, scenting him, as she walks into the kitchen, “but I can make some.” 

Cora gives him a quick smile too before looking back at the flatscreen in front of her. Laura pats the cushion next to her on the couch and Derek sounders over before he drops himself in it. Laura’s hand is quickly on his leg, her scent mixing with his, and Derek allows her to comfort him.

Kiara comes back with a single cup of cappuccino and he can see she’s attempted to make a figure in the fluffy layer of milk. He doesn’t know what it’s supposed to be, but he appreciates the sentiment. The three of them remain silent as they stare at the cooking show that’s playing on the tv, even if none of them are really watching. 

His sisters are the loudest people he knows. Except maybe for Erica. The house is usually filled with chatter, gossip or arguments. He’d always been the quiet one, the shy one. He’d always felt a little different. Kiara was quieter too, but she was social in a way he wasn’t. It was a common joke within the family, Derek getting trampled over by his sisters both verbally as well as physically, Derek having to adjust to them. And it was true, most of the time. Yet now, as they were sitting here he realized that despite their differences they do adjust to him too. 

He goes to lean against Kiara, laying his head on her shoulder. She places her lips on his hair, pressing down shortly. Laura scoots over, laying herself down in his lap and Cora moves to sit down on the rug, her back in between his legs. The scent of support and family and pack fills the room and he clears his throat as he decides to tell them everything.

“Stiles is my mate.” 

Granted, it might not have been the most gentle introduction he could have given to the story, but he didn’t expect his sisters to react this wildly. Laura jumps up from the couch, Kiara standing up with her, screams of ‘you met your mate?’ and ‘why didn't you tell us’ being thrown at his face.

Only Cora stayed seated, simply turning to him with a considerate and somewhat calculative look, before she shrugs carelessly. “I can see that.” 

His other sisters are frenziedly staring at him, as if he’s suddenly grown a second head. Letting his hand pass over his neck in a thoughtless movement, proves that he hasn’t. “Yes. Stiles is my mate and in two days I’ll be giving him the tattoo that binds him to another pack.” 

Their expressions soften at that and Kiara comes back to the couch, wrapping a loving arm around him as she does so. 

Laura remains standing and slowly a frown takes shape on her face. “Why would you do that?”

“Because it’s what’s best for him.” Derek swallows, because he knows it is. Stiles has had a place in the Mccall pack before it was even a pack. He’s grown up with them, fought alongside them, trusted them and loved them for years. It was where he belonged. If there was room for Derek in his life, Derek would take whatever role he could get - it just wouldn’t be the role of alpha. And that was okay, because Derek cared more about Stiles’ wellbeing than he did about his selfish wants.

Laura doesn’t look convinced as she sits down on the other side of the couch. She glances up at him, confusion and genuine sorrow in her eyes. “But is it really?” 

Derek sighs, but nods. “Yesterday he was almost taken by that bitch of a druid..or well darach. He was almost taken because he hadn’t bound himself to a pack yet. I can’t let that happen again just because I would prefer he bound himself to a different pack. A pack he isn’t even a part of. I never want to force Stiles into doing anything. Not into giving up his pack and not into giving up his safety. Not for me.” 

The words stretch out an emotional silence between them, Laura nodding to herself as if she understands. Kiara nuzzles further into his chest, love and understanding and sadness on his behalf contained within the movement. It’s Cora that argues this time, looking at him with a sternness in her eyes. “But you’re not even giving him a choice.” 

But she was wrong. He was giving Stiles a choice. The choice to lead his life without having to give up everything for Derek.

\--

He’d cancelled his clients for the next two days, dedicating all his time to finishing the design for Stiles’ tattoo. Erica and Isaac had been managing the shop, sushing him back to his workplace whenever he attempted to help out.

Which was where he’d spend his days. The light of his desk lamp was starting to blind his eyes and even though werewolves aren’t supposed to get sore muscles, his hand was starting to cramp up from how it’d been balled around a pencil all day. He was finishing the last line in Lydia’s wolfsbane strand and it was probably one of the best wolfbanes he’d ever done. Taking a step back, he held up the stencil against the light and he knew: this was his best work so far.

His eyes lingered on the no harm symbols, which curled around in the background, and he found he no longer had an issue with them. The people Stiles was about to tie himself too had proven loyal, trustworthy and loving. Derek knew they would never harm Stiles.

The scanning machine let out a few protesting beeps as it converted his stencils into PDF files. Clicking open his mailbox, he sent them Stiles’ way to get a last approval. They’d already be doing the tattoo tonight, so it was all a bit last minute, but there was no other way around it. Stiles knew this too and it’s not even ten seconds later when a reply pops in.

 **Stiles:** I love them. They are everything I wanted and more. I do have one request for an adjustment on the right shoulder - but I’ll tell you about it tonight. No worries. 

He wants to roll his eyes. Stiles clearly didn’t understand that an adjustment would mean a new sketch, which would mean a new stencil, which would mean at least half an hour delay. And that’s just for a small adjustment. But oh well, Derek shall see what Stiles had thought of now. He’d cave for whatever the other guy wanted anyway.

As he spun around in his chair, he saw Erica and Isaac had already put on their coats. Erica walked over to him carefully, placing her hand on his shoulder. “You sure you don’t want us to stay?” 

“No,” he shakes his hand, placing his hand on hers, “I think I have to do this one alone.” 

She nods, a sadness in her eyes, and leans over to wrap her arms around him. Her curls tickle in his face but he’s grateful to have such loving people in his life. Isaac stands behind them, a wry smile on his lips, and he gives Derek a nod as if he understands. The movement seems simple, but Derek finds that his betas approval is all he needed to go through with this.

They head out of the shop and Derek releases a loud sigh once the place is empty. He’d explained the situation to them yesterday and whilst they didn’t have a deep understanding of what a mate was, they felt for him and promised not to tell Stiles until Derek had. And one day Derek will tell him. Just not today. His mother had called him earlier, Kali had finally spoken. Apparently turning her emissary into a wolf had limited Jennifer's abilities, so they needed a source to tap magic from. A spark would do more than fine. It been a heavy day for Stiles, so Derek just wanted to help him feel safe. The tattoo was the way to do that. 

Even though he knows he needs to do this, wants to do this even, he can’t help the unsettled feeling in his stomach. He’s turning against all his instincts by doing this, and whilst he knows it’s for a good cause, he can’t help but feel heavy-chested. 

Deaton arrives before Stiles does, giving Derek a courteous nod as he walks into the shop. Derek had called the emissary yesterday, explaining what had happened, and the other man hadn’t agreed with Derek’s decision but had been willing to perform the spell that was needed. Despite Deaton not giving him his blessing, Derek knew this was the right decision. 

“I have to say,” Deaton starts as he moves to sit down on Isaac’s desk chair, “whilst I still think this is not the right binding for Stiles, I admire your selflessness alpha Hale.” 

The impact of the statement is not lost on Derek. Deaton never called him alpha Hale, no matter how many others did, as for Deaton there was only one Hale worthy of being alpha. Derek finds himself to become strangely emotional at the recognition. 

Stiles enters the shop then, the happy spike in his scent announcing his arrival even before the doorbell, and Derek rushes over to help him inside. It’d been four days since he’d seen him and only two days out of the hospital for Stiles. The scratches on his face were healing and the wound on his side had been stitched up. They’d called Melissa to ask if his body was even ready for tattooing and she’d assured them it would be fine as long as he’s laying down.

Stiles rolls his eyes when he sees Derek jogging over and gives him a peck on his lips. “I’m not a cripple, you know?” 

“I know.” Derek places his arm on the small of Stiles’ back for support as he guides him to the leather chair. 

Deaton gives Stiles a greeting nod, his voice as monotone as ever. “Glad to see you have made a full recovery Stiles.”

Stiles huffs out a thanks as he takes off his shirt and goes to lie down on the chair, watching as Derek goes to prepare the different colours of ink. 

Deaton is apparently suddenly a chatty, sharing person and continues to talk to Stiles whilst Derek is busy gathering his supplies. He tries not to grin.

“As you know, I still don’t think this is the right binding for your spark. But in light of what happened with the darach I have decided to help.” Derek moves in, using a razor to shave Stiles’ shoulders and upper arms. Stiles gives him an annoyed look as Deaton’s still talking. Derek tries to contain his laugh. “But don’t mistake this as me giving my approval Stiles. I think there is an alpha that is literally made for you to bind to out there. Nearer than you might think.”

Derek shoots a dark look Deaton’s way. That was too far. Deaton tilts his head, showing his understandance and disagreement in one move. The older man moves to his bag and gets out a thick red covered book with yellowed pages. It smells like magic and dust. There’s a golden inscription in Latin on the front and Derek figures it’s probably a spell book when Deaton goes to find the right page. 

As he places the stencil for the left piece on Stiles’ shoulder, he remembers Stiles still wanted to make some changes to the right tattoo. “What was it that you wanted to adjust? I’m going to need some time to fix it.” 

“I’ll tell you after we’ve done this shoulder,” Stiles grins widely, “that way I can rest a little in between sessions too.”

“Sure.” Derek’s brows furrow. It’s not like Stiles to not immediately spit out his thoughts as soon as he has them.

The stencil had transferred nicely, blue markings now colouring Stiles’ pale skin. Derek just knows that Stiles is going to look beautiful with tattoos. He has the perfect complection for it. He smiles to himself as he realizes that in a way, he will still be marking Stiles. Just not in the way he’d thought he would have.

After having spread hand sanitizer over his hands, Derek pulls on his single use plastic gloves. He can hear a nervous uptick in Stiles’ heartbeat at the sight and he moves over to squeeze Stiles’ knee. “It will hurt. But I’ll be here to take the grunt of the pain.”

“God, I love having a werewolf boyfriend.” 

Derek’s extremely glad Stiles isn’t a wolf, because he’s sure his heart just made an embarrassingly high jump in his chest. He’d been thinking of Stiles as his boyfriend, but considering they hadn’t discussed it yet he hadn’t known if Stiles felt the same way. A slight blush marks his cheeks and he goes to grab the tattoo gun out of its holder.

Stiles goes to lie down, closing his eyes, and Derek is secretly relieved by it. Now Stiles can’t see his expression as he goes to do something extremely hurtful to himself. Dipping the needle into the small container of black ink, he moves to place the gun on the first outline of Scott’s bands. His chest is tightening, his wolf howling inside him to tell him to stop, and Derek finds his breathing becoming heavy.

Pushing through, he presses down and lets the needle pierce Stiles’ skin and fill it with ink. Stiles winces a little, pressing his eyes down shut further, and Derek forces himself to finish the first line. His wolf is protesting loudly, instincts wanting to take over and Derek pushes them down. His throat feels like it’s narrowing and he can see that even though he only moved a millimeter, the start of the line is wobbly. Okay, no problem, he can fix that. He fixes wobbly lines all the time. Except he can’t. His hand is shaking uncontrolably and his vision is starting to blur and he can’t fucking breathe. 

Two hands cup his cheeks, their warmth and scent comforting his wolf, and he looks up to see Stiles staring at him with concern in his eyes. “Derek, hey, are you okay?” 

Derek doesn’t even know how to answer that question. He hadn’t expected for his wolf to react that strongly. He groans as he lays down the gun and goes to hide his face in his hands. Shame overtakes him, as well as regret, and he still can’t seem to fucking breathe. Stiles’ arms are around him in an instant and he hears his mate release a pained noise above him. “Der, what’s going on?” 

Taking a second to scrape together his courage, he turns to face Stiles. The other man’s face is filled with visible worry, his eyebrows a confused line on his face. Stiles presses their hands together as he looks at Derek pleadingly. “Tell me Der. What’s wrong?” 

He’d forgotten Deaton was even in the room when the other guy steps forwards. “You need to tell him Derek.”

When Derek still doesn’t say anything, Deaton comes to place an unforgiving hand on his shoulder. His eyes are stern but also filled with a sort of pride as he looks at Derek. “Tell him, alpha Hale.” 

He looks up at Stiles’, whose eyes are a big pool of confusion and kindness, pleading for him to trust him. He swallows, realizing this is it. There is no going back from this. Stiles needs to know. And if he hates Derek for it, then there’s nothing Derek can do. He can get Isaac to do the piece, or maybe Satomi from the human shop up in Sacramento. If Stiles doesn’t want anything to do with Derek anymore, that will be that. Cora was right. It has to be Stiles’ decision. 

Clearing his throat, he looks into Stiles’ eyes, not knowing what kind of reaction he’ll find in them. “You’re my mate.”

At Stiles’ confused frown, he continues. “As in my wolf mate. My for life mate. It’s just..you’re it for me. All my instincts have been wanting you from the moment we met. And you binding yourself to Scott, which is good and fine, but it just hurts. And it’s hard. It’s just..my instincts want you to be in my pack. Be my emissary. But I know that's selfish and that’s why I didn’t say anything, especially after what happened with Jennifer, and I want to do this. I want to help you, but I just don’t know if I can.”

Laura calls it his word vomit. It doesn’t happen to him often and he wishes it hadn’t happened to him now.

Stiles’ eyes are wide, his mouth having fallen open, and Derek can see the gears turning inside his head. Fucking fuck. Stiles was going to hate him. His mate was going to reject him. In front of fucking Deaton as well. 

He presses his eyes shut, mentally preparing himself for the worst, when he hears Stiles huff out what sounds like a laugh. “That..makes so much fucking sense.” 

Derek opens his eyes, eyebrows lowering, as he takes in the wide smile on Stiles’ face. “What?” 

“You don’t get it Derek,” Stiles laughs as he steps towards him, “I have been bugging my dad and Lydia about this for weeks now. The way you made me feel, from the moment I walked through these very doors, was insane. I never fall for someone straight away. Never. And you just made me want to be near you all the time. I was constantly looking for excuses to come see you again, that time you came into the coffee shop - I almost shit myself.” 

Derek can’t believe his ears, staring in shock at where Stiles is still talking.

“And then you invited me out with your family and I just felt at home. You made me feel at home. I knew something was up with Jennifer and who do I tell? You. A guy I’ve known for barely a month. I don’t tell Scott, the guy I’ve known for half my life, I tell you. My first thought was telling you. I knew somehow that you’d be the one to protect me. And then you actually were. You’ve made me feel safe and at home and you made my spark tingle like crazy and I didn’t understand any of it.”

“But this,” Stiles takes a hold of Derek’s hands, “this explains it.” 

The rough, almost bruising, kiss that Stiles plants on Derek’s lips takes him greatly by surprise. He quickly responds though, eagerly dragging his lips across Stiles’, moving his hand onto the small of his back.

They keep it short, breathing heavy as they look into each other’s blown pupils, as Stiles was apparently not done talking. “And then you’ve been designing me this beautiful fucking tattoo and I love it and it’s everything I wanted. Everything I asked for. But then it feels so empty. When you drew it on my skin I was so excited, I loved it, but every time I looked in the mirror it just made me sad and I just didn’t understand why.”

“And then I realized,” Stiles points an accusing finger his way, “it made me sad because it was missing something. So I made this and I was going to surprise you with it after this shoulder, but this is even better.” 

Stiles bends down to where his backpack lies on the floor and hurries to pull out a now crumpled piece of paper. He pushes it into Derek’s hands and Derek is almost scared to open it. On it is a printed version of the stencil of the right tattoo Derek had emailed Stiles earlier today, except at the bottom Stiles has used a black marker to draw in a large triskele. 

It’s the most..beautiful thing Derek’s ever seen. He’s sure he’s been staring at it for way too long now, but he can’t tear his eyes away from it. The drawing isn’t perfect, but it touches Derek deep within his soul. It was his mate, confirming that he not only wanted to be with Derek, he wanted to bind himself to him. Tears well up in his eyes as he finally manages to look up from the paper. Stiles is looking up at him with a pleased grin and Derek can’t help but move forwards to place his lips on Stiles’. 

He tries to push every emotion he’s feeling into to kiss. His absolute joy, his thankfulness, his appreciation, his trust, his earlier worry, his want and his..love. Stiles pulls away, grinning like a maniac, and Derek wants nothing more than to throw his mate over his shoulder and take him home. The joy and love in Stiles’ scent are driving his wolf crazy.

“As touching as this all is,” Deaton steps forwards looking a little sheepish, an actual blush visible on his cheeks, “what do you want to do?”

Derek and Stiles huff out a laugh as they look at each other, Derek thinks both of them completely forgot about the druid being in the room, and Derek wants to smirk at the fact he’s managed to make Deaton express emotion, even if it is second hand embarrassment. 

“Well,” Derek starts, looking between Stiles, Deaton and the paper in his hand, “would it work? Binding yourself to more than one alpha?” 

“To my knowledge, it’s unheard of.” Deaton seems to be back to his stoic self. “That of course doesn’t mean it’s not possible, but is that really what you’d want? Be emissary to two packs?”

“Umh, I think so.” Stiles looks at Derek for help, but this is not a question he can answer for his mate. “I mean. I am Scott’s emissary and I will forever stay in his pack. But it doesn’t feel right to not bind myself to Derek as well.”

“Oh!” Stiles eyes widen as he comes up with an idea. “Maybe we can become one big pack!” 

Derek sends Stiles a sharp look. “Not happening.”

“Why not, sourwolf?” Stiles actually pouts, enlarging his eyes as he begs Derek. “Aren’t you supposed to give your mate everything they want?” 

“I don’t know what books you’ve been reading, but they’re wrong.” Derek smirks, dropping his shoulders as he realizes he owes Stiles a serious argument. “I am a Hale. I come from the Hale pack and now have my own Hale pack. Whilst I view the Mccall pack as useful allies, I don’t see myself -” 

“Allies.” Deaton hums to himself as he goes to flip through his spellbook, landing on a page further down. “That could work.”

“What could?” Stiles eagerly steps forwards and takes place besides the druid, letting his eyes scan over the page. If the small smile he gets on his lips is anything to judge by, Stiles seems to think they’ve found the solution for their problem. 

“We’re going to have to talk to your mom. And Scott.” Stiles grins widely, walking back to Derek and wrapping his arm around his shoulder. “We’ll need their permission before we tie the packs down as allies on my skin.”

\--

_Three weeks later_

There’s a calmth inside Derek that hasn’t been there in years. His head has stopped spinning, his wolf has settled. He feels..complete.

One of the pillows has fallen off his bed during the night and he moves to pick it back up. The position makes him face the picture frame on the wall. It holds the drawing on the stencil Stiles gave him, the deep black lines of the sloppily drawn triskele bringing a smile to Derek’s lips whenever he sees them. It would forever be Derek's favourite drawing.

The door to the ensuite opens and Derek smiles contently when his mate steps out, freshly showered with just a towel wrapped around his hips. They’d finally taken off the bandages he’d had to keep over his shoulders this morning, finally revealing the final design Derek had put on Stiles.

Stiles had always been the most beautiful man Derek had ever seen. From the soft brown moles splattered across his skin, his lean but somehow muscular build, to his elongated neck, which was just begging for Derek to bite down in it. But the tattoos just seem to pull it all together. They're a deep black on his shoulders, but somehow appear light and delicate. Stiles steps fowards and the tattoos seem to move with him as if they’ve always belonged there. Derek can feel the faint buzz of magic they expel and fuck..all they did was make Stiles even hotter. It was like Erica had said, the boy was made for tattoos. Stiles grins as he notices his appreciative glance.

“Morning sourwolf.” He climbs back into bed with Derek, letting his hand rush over Derek’s chest.

Derek grins happily, sitting up in bed to meet Stiles’ lips. A pleased grumble rushes through him at the sensation of Stiles licking into his mouth and his hand quickly moves over Stiles’ back. He can feel the muscles there contracting as Stiles slithers down on top of him. Their bare chests touch with the movement, their tongues swirling around each other. Derek can't help himself and his hands drop to the curve of Stiles’ back, making the towel fall of Stiles’ body. The naked skin he finds there sends a pleased moan out of his lips.

He sits up, pulling Stiles further onto his lap. The friction makes him harden. Stiles moans underneath him, clearly feeling it too, and backs out of their kiss to let his teeth run over Derek’s bottom lip. It makes him groan and he moves back up with urgency, connecting their mouths again and tightening his hold on Stiles’ ass. The other man seems to like that and starts dragging his hips along Derek’s groan, increasing the friction between them. It feels fucking good and Derek is harder than he's ever been.

Stiles is hard too, his erection dragging along Derek's chest and Derek can't resist. He moves his hand to it, making sure to keep the other one on the small of Stiles’ back firmly. Holding him in place. Stiles shutters out a breath, moving back his head, as Derek’s hand curls around his member. Moving up and down, Derek’s eyes can’t help but focus on the way Stiles’ mouth has fallen open in pleasure, eyes pressed shut. A pleased groan falls of those plum lips.

Continuing, he lets his hand go up and down the length of Stiles and he can't believe this is really his life now. To have Stiles in his bed. To have Stiles look like this on top of him. If Derek hadn't been hard before, he would be now. Stiles starts to move in his lap again, making Derek’s erection press between his cheeks. It pulls a moan out of Derek, who's reveling in the feeling, and he increases the speed of his tugs. A quick breath is hearable above him, the sound low and filled with bliss. Stiles' eyes shoot open, the beautiful amber of them focused on Derek and Derek can’t help his satisfied smile.

Grinning feraly, Stiles presses his bottom further against the hard line of Derek’s dick and Derek can't do more than grunt, wanting it all. Stiles seems to think the same thing and places his hand against Derek’s chest, eyes lingering on the tattoos that cover it, as he presses back, grinding down on Derek. His other hand moves to the dressoir, making quick work of getting out a small bottle of lube, and he smears it in between his cheeks. 

Stiles starts to ready himself, eyes shut in pleasure, and Derek wants to help. To feel. To take. But Stiles won’t let him, the hand on his chest pushing him back against the headboard. Derek growls, loving the feeling of his stubborn mate on top of him - not letting his alpha lead. It wakes up all his instincts. 

He watches, eyes hungry, as he keeps tugging up and down Stiles’ erection. Stiles almost sobs underneath the combined feelings of pleasure and Derek moves his lip to kiss all of the body in front of him. His shoulders, his chest, his scars. Stiles makes the most beautiful, wrecked sounds above him, and he opens his eyes as he grabs a hold of Derek’s dick.

Pushing it inside without much grace, they both moan out at the feeling of Stiles’ stretching around his tip. Things move quickly after that, both of them desperate for more, and Derek keeps a steady rhythm as he fucks up into Stiles. His mate is moaning above him and Derek almost comes from the sight alone. Stiles feels so good around him, clenching down with every other pounding, and Derek can feel his vision blurring as he comes close to his release.

He opens his eyes to find Stiles staring down at him with heated eyes. Moving his hand onto Stiles’ jaw, caressing it lovingly, makes Stiles blush. The redness of his cheeks adding to the wrecked look he's currently sporting. He moves his fingers all over Stiles' body, down his neck, chest and up onto his shoulders. His eyes fixate on the triskele that he put there, a possesive feeling coming over him as he sees his own marking on the pale skin. He pushes up into Stiles roughly, Stiles letting out a loud moan at the feeling, and Stiles looks at him intensely. “You like that huh? Seeing your mark on my body?” 

Derek can’t do anything but groan in confirmation. Luckily Stiles is always there to talk. He lays his hand down on Derek’s hips, stilling them, and bottoms out on top of Derek. His voice is raspy, out of breath, when he speaks up. “Maybe you should give me another one then.”

Wide eyes stare up at how Stiles tilts his head, baring his neck submissively and a growl rushes through Derek’s body. Stiles is directly challenging his wolf here and he wants. He wants to make this claim. This claim on his perfect mate, who’s still rocking himself on top of him. But he can’t help but wonder if it’s the right time, the right moment. “Stiles. Are you sure?” 

“As sure as I was to put you on my skin. To bind myself to you.” Stiles’ pupils are blown, voice serious. “Let’s do this. Make me yours.” 

Derek growls at that, rushing forwards to let his teeth sink into the delicate skin of Stiles’ neck. It’s the most intense sensation Derek has ever experienced and he can’t help but come as he feels their mate bond click into place. His wolf howls loudly inside his chest, finally having gotten what he wanted all that time ago.

Stiles moans above him too, come dripping out of him as well, and Derek backs down, licking the now bright red bite mark. They stay in their position, panting against each other's chests, as they both revel in the feeling of their completed bond.

When they look up, the furniture is floating around them and Derek can’t help but huff out a laugh. Stiles looks a little embarrassed but quickly joins Derek’s laughter as he goes to walk back to the bathroom. “Can’t believe you made me so I have to shower again. Literally just did. Next time we’ll just fuck in there, makes things easier.”

Derek smirks, everything settled inside of him, and his nostrils fill with the pleasant scent of Stiles, him, mate and sex. “Not my fault you wanted to get dirty. Are you staying for pack dinner?” 

“Can’t,” Stiles pokes his head around the corner, the sound of the shower hearable behind him, “have a different pack night to go to.” 

A huff comes out of Derek and he rolls his eyes to himself. Things would always be a little weird when your mate is the emissary of a different pack, but seeing Deaton had bound them as allies on Stiles’ body Derek knew there was nothing to worry about. 

He looks over at the inside of his arm, where Isaac had placed their new pack tattoo - a single crescent moon with three stars around them, Erica had said they could add a star whenever their little pack expanded - and he realized that Stiles wasn’t the only one in two packs.

It was a funny balance, but it was what worked for them.

  
  


END

**Author's Note:**

> there are not enough tattoo AU's !!! 
> 
> This fic was fun to write during these quarantine times. I fucking love the Hales so I hope my version did them justice. Thank you so much for reading and please leave a comment as they make my day !!


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